


Time and Time again

by liverose



Series: Thought and feeling [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Sarcasm, Sexual Content, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22212568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liverose/pseuds/liverose
Summary: Geralt and jaskier find themselves in a particular Inn outside of Lyria time and time again. Something's off each time, the Inn, the vampires, the barmaids, among other things but time and time again they return.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Thought and feeling [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635448
Comments: 2
Kudos: 93





	1. The first time

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhat irronicly I'm not sure where in the canon timeline this should take place. Though I'm not sure it matters terribly, it's taking place in this little of bubble of my creation I suppose. I am trying my best to be true to my understandings of this world but an expert I am not so I apologize for any out of character / canon my bubble creates for this story.

"Anima you'll cater to the witcher and his bard won't you?" The appreciative Inn owner hadn't even breached the threshold of the doorway before showing his thanks for being saved by the white wolf. Anima seated at the bar held onto the counter and leaned back in her seat squinting at the duo following behind Thomas. "Quick Janis pour mead for these fellows. They've worked up quite the thirst." The Inn keep continued to gush.

"Both? At the same time or do you wish to draw straws?" Anima gave a dismissive smirk before bringing the legs of the stool down to the ground.

"Straws? I mean it seems only fair-" Jaskier started.

"You paid the fee. There'll be no need for . . . straws." Geralt winced at the prospect of sharing a woman with the promiscuous lutist. He sat all his weight down at a corner booth, finally his muscles relaxed just a bit. He inspected from a distance at the forementioned Anima. Normally he would get a glare of repulsion or oggles of morbid curiosity, there was a fair share of both in the room but it had been years since a barmaid simply ignored him, he lied to himself and dismissed the notion it scuffed his ego ever so slightly "Jaskier!" He snapped in the only annoyed cadence he ever called out for his 'friend' He had a feeling this woman was not worth the bother. Jaskier would have noticed too if he was not a moth to the flame that was the female form.

"So does that mean I can take the witcher's turn?" He stuck out a mock chivalrous hand to help Anima from her spot at the bar. Geralt looked on cautiously, waiting for her to slap him broad across his greedy cheeks. Anima sized up the bard from his feet to his scruffed head, let out an unimpressed scoff but took his hand all the same.

"Simple Singer your turn will be more than enough." And with nothing more she lead him away.

Geralt drank with purpose, the Inn keeper was not wrong he had worked up quite a thirst. He let the mugs and moment flow on without much thought _'Wonder if they have a room with a bath free.'_ He stretched aching bones, the night was growing late it would be time to turn in soon. He pushed the ache aside and went to grab at his mug again but it was snatched from his grasp by a visably sweaty Jaskier who chugged the remnants. "Sorry Geralt thrilling a woman is thirsty work." He plopped across from him.  
"Hm." Geralt scoffed, hesitant to believe Jaskier had a thrilling bone in his body.  
"Your turn Witcher." Anima not a hair out of place stood above the duo drinking a long gulp from a new mug of mead before placing it down infront of Geralt.  
"Thanks for the drink." He gave her a nod. "A . . . turn is unnecessary." He polietly declined.  
"Geralt as one best friend to another reconsider. Miss Ani-"  
"It was quite the show Bard." She smirked as she watched him glow. "But a show is not what the Witcher is after."  
"And what is it? That I'm after?" This woman's boldness was giving Jaskier's a run for it's money. He chuckled as she seemed to square up to him, her pale almost white eyes locking with his briefly before she gave a knowing nod. She leaned in close, her lips against his ear. Her breath warm against his skin.  
"You're chasing rest Witcher." She whispered from deep in her throat, it wasn't so much seductive as a parody of the sentiment. He didn't at first notice her hand atop his, still curled around the mug. She pried his didgits off the vessle, knotting her own between them."Come now Witcher I can give you what you seek." Floating like a feather she began to pull him towards the rooms in the back. He followed for a period, only snapping to attention at the sound of Jaskier's voice.

"If your lips curl Geralt don't be alarmed . . . it's called a smile."

Geralts senses all seemed to come back to him at once. "Is that why he offered you?" He stopped their paces.  
"You mean because I am the best maid in the room and you're just noticing in this light?" Her confidence did not shake. Geralt for a moment looked around, he hadn't been inclined to eye up the other women in the Inn, short of quick glances of thanks to the Inn owner's wife. She wasn't wrong but that wasn't the point.  
"Because you're not human . . . not like them." He could smell the mutation in her blood.  
"I like my answer better but anything is possible." She shrugged unphased and began to tug at him again. This was the second response of her's that was unnatural. Normally when he outed a nonhuman he was met with fear or hostility, it seemed the only emotion Anima was capable of was aloofness.  
"What are you?" It was a smell he half remembered but her almost human scent seemed to ebb and flow over what he was trying to pinpoint.  
"A woman." She opened the door. "No wonder you can't sleep with all these nagging questions in your skull." Releasing Geralt from her grasp she went to a table of herbs. Mixing, measuring and all together ignoring Geralt. He scowled, he could smell Jaskier's show on the sheets. There was no way he could sleep with this odor wafting around.  
"Witch?" He guessed, based on her professioncy with the leaves. "Whatever it is your brewing I won't-"  
"It's not for you." Holding up a ville of sludgy liquid she shot a glance to the bed. "sit." She audibly choked down the mixture. He watched her, waiting for some transformation, some spell. As her mouth opened wide he waited for fangs but was met with nothing but a yawn. "Less than a witch. Good guess." She herself sat on the bed again yawning. "You can guess again. Or ask some more of those questions you like so much. All I ask is that you sit." She patted the mattress.  
"Your ability it-"  
"Sounds like a question brewing." She laid out on the bed.  
"Hm" Geralt relented sitting on the edge of the mattress. He could feel it, his body growing heavy.  
"A spell." It was his turn to yawn.  
"A potion." She corrected him, turning onto her side she began to undo Geralt's armor.  
"You say you knew I needed rest. How? You're in my head?" He fought against the heaviness, against Anima's trap he hadn't quite unraveled. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of her laughter.  
"Witcher I'm not sure your head is somewhere I'd elect to dwell. Nor would I need be to know you're exhausted." She pulled at his shoulder bringing his back down to the bed. "It's written all over you. Close your eyes."  
"No." He fought against his lulling eyelids.  
"Fine, I'll be asleep soon. Anymore questions before you go back to waging war upon what you desire?" Anima's eyes shut, her tone softened.  
"What was your plan?" He was surprised, a bit disappointed that she'd give up so easily.  
"To let you think . . ." She was snoring. The potion had knocked her out.  
 _'Holding some in your mouth were you?"_ He had put together the most obvious strategy. She drank the potion and planned to kiss him passing it over to him. "Not so clever clever girl." Geralt stood from the bed the victor. "How?" He felt a knee buckle beneath him. Directly after he crashed to the floor the unconcious loser. 

Geralt woke in bed with a snap and a snarl. His last concious word was also his first. "How?" He glanced around the room, all his possesions were just where he had left them, he gathered them in a huff.

"Not a witch, not a theif . . . Stick to hunting monsters Witcher a sleuth you are not." Anima was standing over by a window unsheathing the sunlight.  
"What did you do?" He stood and quickly closed the gap between them, crowding her, looming, but Anima's smile mearly widened.  
"Come now a bad guess is better than none at all. I give it a month maybe two till these mutagens can't keep that body awake with that human mind of yours." She rubbed his temples half mockingly but it did not mean the tender touch had lost all of it's softness, Geralt recoiled all the same. "When you need to rest your bones again. Come find me."  
"I-"  
"I don't have many rules, but those I state are absolute. I will only answer questions if you sit." She offered the bed back to him.  
"Jaskier!" Geralt still feeling her fingers on his face refused to be bewitched twice in the same day. "We're leaving!" He walked to the door whipping it open in an unnecessary show of force. He glanced over his shoulder to catch an equally unnecessary glance at the barmaid, a coy smile ever present, wispy fingers waving him a farewell.  
"Till destiny crosses our paths again Witcher."  
"Fuck your destiney." The door slammed behind him as he swore to himself they'd never return.


	2. The Good Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't love a Tourney!

A promise to yourself is by far the easiest to break. Anima had misjudged, not two months, perhaps by Geralt's bull headedness alone his bones refused to seek out rest for the better part of half a year. Though even a Witcher's will has limits, man nor monster could fight sleep forever. "Does this forest seem familiar to you?" It was surprising Jaskier didn't trip more, his eyes never on his footing always instead amongst the distance.

"You say that about every forest." Geralt refused to admit Jaskier's sense of direction had improved along their travels.

"Well to my defense you've seen one shrub you've-" And the trip and stumble came almost on cue. "Seen them all, but no I wrote a song of this place, haven't I?" His feet may betray him, but that mouth never faltered.

"The Alps." Those were the vampiric beasts he had fought the last time they had been here. As of yet it was one of his three guesses for what the mysterious bar maiden's true nature was.

"The who?"

"Not who, what. Monsters."

"Like I said you've seen one shrub you've seen em all." With a pep in his step as Jaskier could hear the noise of civilization he paced up ahead of Geralt and Roach.

"No this is definitely familiar." Jaskier nodded thoughtfully as they entered the town. "That Inn . . ." Jaskier pondered as if he knew there was a memory somewhere. Knowing something is there and having the attention span to grasp it are two different things entirely. "Was surely right there the last time we were here."

"Nothing gets by you Bard." This town seemed different than last to Geralt, brighter, warmer. A less pessimistic Witcher would attribute that to some of the good he had done. _'Spring will do that._ ' Geralt settled on the more practical explanation of weather as he tied Roach off at the post in front of the Inn.

"So did these Al . ." Another memory lost.

"Alps"

"Did you miss one or what?"

"Not exactly"

Even the Inn seemed brighter as they entered. "Witcher?!" There was a jovial tone to this shout that took both Geralt and Jaskier by surprise. "And the bard's still alive." The Inn keeper Thom came from around the bar hugging both men between his chubby arms.

"Was there a doubt?" Jaskier was baffled by how both inviting and insulting this greeting was.

"Seems I owe Janis a coin. And Thill owes Anima two. Come in have a seat." He released his hug only to have an arm over each man's shoulder guiding them to waiting mugs of mead.

 _'Is it the building? Cursed? Enchanted?'_ Geralt felt wary of this abundance of positive energy. He could smell magic faintly, but not enough to soak the floor boards. He scrapped the idea entirely as he took in the whole room. It was only the Inn keeper, his wife and a few maids that seemed to be pleased to have the Witcher in their company. Most other faces were at the expected upturned and side cocked angle of disapproval.

"Anima? Ah now I remember what we did here." A sense of acknowledgement washed over Jaskier.

"Remember? That means you had forgotten me bard?" Anima's half mocking half genuine signature tone whined from across the room. "I suppose an artist such as yourself can't recall every breathtaking performance you're a part of." Her pout tilted the scales towards mockery.

"I no . . . of course I'd never forget . . ." There was blush bleeding into his cheeks. Geralt didn't get it, how could Jaskier take this false fawning as a compliment.

 _'On second thought it's Jaskier how could he not.'_ Geralt let out a sigh. "Well as the prolific artist says. You've seen one shrub you've seen them all." Geralt watched as Anima's eyes grew wide in fake insult, then her pout explode into a smile, one Geralt didn't immediately write off as yet another mask.

"Really?"

"I have never said that." Jaskier shook his head vehemently, making desperate eye contact with every soul in the Inn. "Never in my life . . . doesn't even sound like me." He folded his arms as an exclamation to his point.

"So Witcher. What brings you back here?" Anima finally began to make her way across the Inn, slow calculative steps, she knew what he wanted and how very proud of that fact she was. She wanted to see if he was not too proud to admit it.

"You." Geralt did not flinch but someone did.

"Wait really?!" Jaskier glanced up at Geralt in shock and annoyance. "We traveled a week and then some out of our way to . . .there was sure to be an Inn where we were headed, where there's bar maidens surely. Not that you all aren't beautiful unique rose among shrubs." Jaskier tried to salvage his reputation. "But do you know how many Fleders Geralt had to fight to get here? I . . . I nearly died."

"Then I wouldn't be out a coin." The Inn keep stated flatly.

"Perhaps that's the rub, last you were here you both coasted on good graces. Perhaps the Witcher is seeking more charity?" Anima was finally on them, an eyebrow arched is question. Geralt reached into a coin satchel out at his side and extended a palm with a few pieces of silver.

"Go on then if you coin is what your after." It was his turn to wait to see how proud she was. "Grab it."

"One, two . . . three silver a bit stingy Geralt I have at least half a gold-"

"Grand." Anima snatched the coins out of Geralt's palm clenching it tight in her fist. "Then you can spend your gold on Thill. Come on Witcher, but be warned I'll only be charitable just this once more. Tickle me flattered you put more thought into this guess but-" she trickled the coins from one palm to another, holding up the flesh unmarred by silver. "Still wrong." A genuine smile made another appearance. Geralt had no such smile, a snarl was all he had for his top two ideas being thwarted. "Don't give up I'm sure you'll get it." She took his palm in hers and began their way to her room.

"So you are not interested is Jaskier's gold?" Geralt thought he might have better luck unravelling her if he knew her motives.

"He's gentle enough, he'll pair fine with Thill." Anima stated very mater afactly.

"Am I not gentle enough? That is why the keeper offered you that night?" Nice as he seemed the Inn keeper still had prejudice, worried Geralt was not more man than monster.

"Gentle? Even in your sleep you're all teeth and claw. Getting you in that bed was nothing short-"

"Did I harm you?" Geralt stopped in his tracks like a scolded pup. Mutant or not he did not enjoy the thought of him causing Anima pain.

"Don't flatter yourself Witcher. All the muscle and magic you may be, dead weight is dead weight. We're not so different you and I. You were made in a way to fight the needs of monsters when others do not have the grit to do so and earn coin and a tattered reputation in the process. I'm much the same, trade out the need of monster for the need of man."

"Who made you?" He was finally getting somewhere. He wasn't exactly sure why he was looking this gift horse in the mouth. She was able to make him sleep when nothing else could. Why did he need to know any more?

"Sit." The rule had not changed. Geralt without more protest than a snide glance took a seat on Anima's bed. He could feel it begin, his body both relaxing as well as feverishly fighting that instinct.

"Well?"

"Some lofty idealistic group of men who think they know better than nature. Who else?" He had to have known it wouldn't suddenly become easy.

"When? Were you a child?" As she began the same motions as last time he attempted to beat the clock. "The potion. What's in it?"

"Alp blood mostly but I'm sure you can smell it clearer this time. Last turn, you were still caked in it." She was right he nose had become numb to it before but as soon at it was uncorked he knew it dead to rights. "Scarce thanks to you. We'll use less this time yeah? Give you some more time for questions." with a clink of a spoon her mixture was complete and with an apprehensive swallow she drank it down. "If you dressed down and got comfortable you'd save us all a bit of headache." Just as last time she began to yawn, sitting next to him on the bed.

He relented slightly, kicking off his boots, shedding his heavy leather armor. "And you just have Alp blood on your nightstand . . . because?"

"You're unique Witcher that we all know. Did you think yourself so unique that your mind's the only one grown to fear rest?" As Geralt looked at her, let his eyes linger on her, she did seem more tired than to be expected from a barmaid. A bit of haunt had sunk into those nearly pearl eyes. He was losing interest in trying to figure out what Anima was, but he was paranoid enough to believe that was her doing. He had another theory though quite farfetched.

"I wish . . . wish you'd be forthcoming with me." There was a long pregnant pause after Geralt's statement, the room grew more quiet than he thought possible. Then it erupted, Anima coiled in on herself. Laughter, full hearty laughter filled the space.

"A D'Jinn?" She laughed some more, her pale face grew red as she chose laughter over air.

"Enough."

"Oh more than enough!" Her hands clapped together as tears formed at the corners of her eyes. "Thank you Geralt for that!" She grabbed his face in her palms, he could feel the heat from their collision, but that warmth would be eclipsed by the heat of her lips crushing against his. Geralt did not recoil, not that he had the opportunity, the quick peck was over as soon as it started. As she pulled back he could still feel a buzz of something as his teeth raked at his bottom lip.

"The potion." He stood for a moment in disbelief she had gotten past his defenses a second time.

"Relax." The laughter had finally settled but Anima still looked tickled pink in the cheeks. "It would have happened anyway. Lay down ask questions, grab my tits do whatever you like for your last couple minutes conscious." She let out a hearty yawn as she made herself comfortable in the bed

"This time . . . you used my name." He groaned as his back hit the mattress.

"Those who take . . . or pay, it's an exchange, titles will do." She placed a hand over Geralt's heart. _'So slow.'_ It was mesmerizing to her. "Those who give Geralt, I use their name acknowledge the gesture." She pressed an ear to the rhythm, she could hear the low beat speed by the smallest increment. Looking up she checked to see if this closeness bothered him. His eyes were half shut but ever stoic.

"And what did I give you?"

"An emotion. I hardly feel them spontaneously anymore." She fell asleep first, just as last time, and same as last in quick succession Geralt followed.

"Geralt!" Jaskier was shaking the poor Witcher with all his might.

"Mr. Witcher." A mouse of a voice echoed behind him.

"Fuck!" Geralt's eyes finally snapped open and his hand reached out for steel but came up empty.

"What I tell you? Smart to move the swords eh?" Anima was seated at her nightstand combing through knots in her long amber hair. she gestured with her brush over at the wall, the new resting place for Geralt's belongings. " I told them not to wake you but why listen when you can shout." She resumed her combing.

"Jaskier. What. Are-"

"Before you get mad I-"

"Too late." Geralt rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Well. Stop it. Because I have an opportunity that will lift even your sour mood. Just across the hill they're holding a tourney-"

"You woke me. For a tourney?" Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the collar. "What are you a child?"

"A monster killing tourney!" Jaskier squealed.

"Everyone will be there. They bring in monsters from cross the continent. The man who slays the most wins the pot." The unknown female that for some unknown reason was at Jaskier's hip elaborated.

"That sounds . . . foolish." Geralt was not warming to the idea as hoped.

"Foolish? You love Killing monsters. Getting paid for publicity what could be better."

"I don't love killing monsters." Geralt let go of the bard with a shove.

"Don't?!" He spun to his counterpart. "He does, he absolutely does. Only thing that gives him purpose."

"Purpose and pleasure are not two in the same." Anima chimed in.

"I . . . I'm sorry are you a Witcher in whore's clothing because-"

"Jaskier!" Geralt gave the bard another shove.

"Sorry." He glanced around Geralt's broad form. "Sorry." He apologized to Anima.

"It's more fun than it sounds. it's tradition. Everyone makes a day about it. I'll pack us a lunch." The young blonde piped up again.

"Oh Thill don't tell me your swept up in this dick measuring contest again?" Anima groaned with disapproval.

"I was . . . was hoping if the Witcher went you'd come along." She passed by Geralt to begin a plea of her own.

"Thill I-" Anima began to protest but Thill did what Geralt had been unable to do, catch Anima off balance.

"The Inn will be closed. No coin to be made You can't hide here forever Anima."

"I'm not." Anima's brushing grew more aggressive.

"You haven't seen the sun in weeks. Ever since-"

"Stop it." Anima's voice rose as she slammed her brush onto the table. "Fine, fine ok I'll go." She let out an angry sigh. "Before you go getting any bright ideas. I tan just fine, I don't burst in the sunlight." Her heated gaze shot over to Geralt.

"Glorious. We're all on board then." Jaskier clasped his hands together as if his plan had gone without a hitch.

"I won't participate in an event that glorifies snatching monsters from their homes dragging them to fight to the death." Geralt saw no valor nor glory in this 'sport'

"Geralt." Jaskier knew what string to pull. "If you wish to be merciful to these creatures you have to enter. You're the only one who knows how to do it properly. The rest will simply hack at the beasts." Jaskier could see the cogs turning slowly in Geralt's head.

"They won't hold another tourney." Geralt relented slightly.

"Sure maybe you'll be mayor for a day and you can decide that. Sooooo?"

"What's for lunch?" Geralt began to pull his armor over his head.

"Oh . . . uh . . . what do witchers eat?"

"Food Thill. They eat food! Come on I'll help you." Anima took her friend by the shoulders and escorted her out of the room.

"Geralt?"

"Jaskier."

"Take it from someone who falls in love with each phase of the moon. Courting a barmaid brings nothing but heartache."

"Jaskier?"

"Yes? I know it seems harsh but-"

"Shut up."

"Right. That seems about right." Jaskier nodded as silence overtook them.

Hours and a town later the tourney was almost ready to start. As Geralt went from wrangler to wrangler stating he would feed them to the monsters if they came back the following year his companions took their seats. "You could atleast look like you're enjoying yourself." Thill chuckled softly at Anima's pursed lips and shifting eyes.

"Rabid monsters and seas of mouth breathers. What's not to love." She slouched in her seat.

"Don't worry if Geralt's saved my life a . . . handful of times. He won't allow you to be eaten." Jaskier half boasted.

"Hmm." Anima rolled her eyes.

"I swear slap on a white wig and some leather they'd be indistinguishable."

Horns blared through the air commanding attention. "Announcing this years contestant in the great conquering tourney. Merek Carac-" a pause for the young man to wave for the fans to cheer. It went this way down the line till they reached the witcher. "Geralt of Rivia." No wave, just a glare in Jaskier's direction. No cheers, mostly silence and some scattered jeers. The silence was broken by a high picked and seemingly encouraging whistle. His glare breaking surprised as he noticed Anima was the source of the defiant sound.

"Go on Geralt! Show them a thing or two. Right?" She jostled Thill, who began to clap, the whole Inn's workforce hoped in on the hype, prying a small smirk from Geralt. It was, as most nice moments, fleeting.

"Leave it to the freaks to cheer for their own." Lady of something or somewhere had to toss in her two coins.

"Hey!" Jaskier whined.

"We're not freaks we-" Thill began a retort but Anima cut her off.

"What can we say? Bet on the strong horse. Freaks get the job done . . . just ask your husband." She threw the woman a wink.

"You're not helping." Geralt shouted up at her but the flash of a smile stated otherwise.

"Fine. Wouldn't want to take the class out of the slaughter." Anima threw up her hands in defeat.

Who could have predicted this event dissolving into chaos? Geralt could, Geralt had and after abiding by the rules slaying drowners, a noonwraith, a flier all while dodging thorns shooting from the archespore growing along the arena walls it had all been for naught. When his last competitor Merek, who had to be pulled from the jaws of an Algohl had been deemed second place, when it became obvious that the masses were expected to cheer for a Witcher, the mood blackened. The tourney narrator walked out somber as if heading to the gallows before introducing Geralt as the champion. They didn't want to reward him with cheers prizes and respect. Since the very begging they had wanted the WItcher to fail.

"Let the beasts out!" Someone shouted. "See how superior the mutants are then eh?" That was the crux of it, he wasn't like them and to admit that someone . . . something not fully human had bested their best, well that could not stand.

"This is not good." Jaskier had seen a town or two turn on Geralt, and though the Witcher never dwelled on it outwardly he knew, it did bite at whatever passed for the white wolf's emotions.

"He won fair and square leave him alone!" Thill seemed the only one fully surprised at this reaction. Her naïve words were drown out by boos and demands for the dismemberment of the Witcher.

"Shit." Jaskier lept from his seat as the sound of unoiled gates grinding open echoed the arena. "Geralt?" He paced down to the edge of the seating looming over Geralt, who had yet to move from his spot. "I think it's time we move along." He shouted.

"I don't work for free Jaskier." Geralt, seemingly unphased held out his hand to the man who had pronounced him winner. "Well?" he waited a moment. When the man clearly in over his head stared at him dumfounded he continued. "I don't think you want to be in here with me . . . or the monsters when those gates fully open" A Fliter had already escaped it's holding swooping and screeching overhead. As the man took note he handed over a large satchel of duckets and gold over to the Witcher.

"I'm sorry I didn't think this would happen I . . . What is that?!" Thill's eyes grew large as she pointed behind Geralt, who happened to also glance over his shoulder.

"Golem." He watched as creatures poured from every door window and crevasse. "Jaskier get them out of here!" He barked pulling a cork off a mixture banewart amongst other unsavory herbs and drank it down. "Now."

"Well you heard the man!" Jaskier didn't need to be told twice the flee the impending horde.

"Geralt you can't kill them all on your own." Anima watched as silver clashed with scales and sinew.

"If I don't defeat them. Who else will?" A wave of Igni cascaded from Geralts palm across the floor nipping at the heels of what he had much earlier noticed were watered down monsters, half of them missing claws and binding curses that made them far more trouble in the wilds. A beast without fangs, was still very much a beast. "They'll massacre the whole town." Blackened eyes met those pale as linen. But behind the light eyes Geralt saw nothing but darkness, anger, hatred. Not for the Witcher, for the town he was fighting to protect, towards the people. Those eyes spoke as much as they stared, screaming from deep inside Anima.

 _'Let them die, let them have the monsters they asked for._ '

"Shite!" Thill held her hands over her the right side of her neck. "It burns!" Quickly words dissolved into tears. Anima broke her glare at Geralt, all that hatred and malice, as if it never existed, replaced with empathy and concern. A stray thorn from a Archeospore had grazed the young girl's neck.

"You're fine Thill." Anima cooed, pulling her friend's hands away touching the scrape, knuckling away some blood.

"I'm . . . I'm fine." Thill nodded mostly reassured, her breathing leveling out.

"Jaskier! Get them out now!" Geralt would not repeat himself.

"Right yes. Ladies . . . lets. . . Is that lightning? Geralt is that you or the . . . you know what? Question for another time." A hand on each woman's shoulder he escorted them out to the fields, over to Roach where they would wait.

A little over an hour of waiting had passed before the group grew unruly. "Thill sit here. I'm going to find some herbs." Anima's words were not of her normal aloof cadence, they were short and curt.

"Are you angry with me?" Thill did sit but she looked up at Anima with a pouting face. There was something off, Anima was perspiring, there was a twitch in her gate where she paced. "Anima you haven't-"

"Go out you said. Can't hide in the Inn. They're better in the light you said. They're no better Thill they're-" Anima was interrupted first by a bray from Roach, then by the sight of a small object falling into Thill's lap.

"Open it." Geralt was yards away shuffling towards the group, a sneer visible from a distance.

"Geralt, quite an adventurous day we can all agree?" Jaskier knew this pot was about to boil over and he also knew Geralt would be more than willing to toss the bard into the froth. "Ugh what . . . what is that smell?" He glanced down at Thill and the vile.

"It's better not to ask." Geralt shrugged off the question. "Hold it to your lips but do not drink from it." His potions and cures were meant for Witchers not for frail human immune systems. "Contact should slow the circulation of the toxin till we get back to Anima's nightstand." Thill's face puckered as the glass hit her lips. She coughed and sputtered as she pulled it away.

"Yuck." She held up the vial not to Geralt but to Anima.

"You were hit as well?" Geralt glared over at Jaskier, he had given the bard one task.

"No." Anima shook her head and waved away the bottle.

"Hmm." Geralt did not smell any blood from her, but he was covered in blood bile and any other bodily fluid known to man. He turned an ear to her heartbeat, it was uneven rapid then shallow. He caught another sound, her teeth, they were grinding in almost a rhythmic motion. "Listen to your friend." Geralt had an insistence is his tone. He didn't know what ailed her but something was off.

"Anima I'm sorry . . . I just wanted to brighten your spirits . . . You've been distant lately. If I had known this would've happened I would never have insisted we-"

"It's not your fault this cursed continent is overrun with fools." Anima could have continued lashing out at Thill but she had made her point. Almost the moment the Witcher's potion touched her lips she felt her heart hault, there was a long pause before it beat again. _'Still not as slow as his._ ' She glanced over at Geralt whose face was knit in what could almost be read as concern. She sighed heavy as she corked the bottle, as the realization froze her bones. She was losing it, just as she had been promised she would. Her eyes lazily traveled from companion to companion. Jaskier the almost generic poster for the human nature of optimism and theatrics, the glass was forever on it's way to being filled for the bard. Thill who despite being a plaything for those of better means was almost equally optimistic, full of faith in the best of man. Even Geralt, a witcher rumored to have been voided of all human emotion, had shown his own brand of compassion, saving those who had wished him maiming at best right to his face. That left her, she glanced at her own hand as she gave back the potion. What had Thill stated? Distant? Yes with each passing heartbeat she was growing more and more distant and detached from humanity. "Fools are fun in their own right I suppose." She forced a smile on her face, hoping to appease Thill. "Unfortunately we missed lunch. Head back to the tavern? Finish our adventure there?" She helped her friend to her feet.

"Yes." The smile had done it's job. Thill seemed convinced the day could still be saved.

"I could eat." Jaskier seconded the proposal.

"Hmm" Geralt seemed less sold.

"Come now Witcher. I'll draw you a bath" Anima swept some goo off his armor. "Or two."

"Fine."

"Look ere! In walks the champion!" Thom clapped his heavy fists and scattered applause followed. "And the bard's still alive."

"Why does he keep saying that?" Jaskier mewled as they entered the Inn bustling as if chaos hadn't taken a shit on their tradition.

 _'It has to be this building._ ' Geralt tried to search every visible inch for a rune or sigil. The applause could be brushed off as a group of slightly less closed minded individuals but what it did to her, it had to be magic. The second Anima passed through the door the ghost of a smile that had been nailed into her face, sprung to life. Her shoulders that had been curled in under some unspoken burden bloomed wide. Her voice regained it's confidence, it's warm care free tone.

"Witcher third room down the hall. We'll have you cleaned in no time. Thill clear a table, I don't know about you but I need to get the taste of that potion out my mouth. Bard keep the mood up for us?" Her fingers pointed in all different directions. "I'll get something made for that scratch Thill." And she was gone, floating with a bit of a skip towards her chambers. Geralt watched her till the door shut behind her.

Almost as if a spell had broken he came to his senses once she was out of his sight. _'Don't get involved._ ' She wasn't hurting anyone, he hadn't been paid to dispatch or save her, her riddle was not his to solve. "Hmm" He made his way towards his promised bath. _'Witcher_.' He scowled, why did the way she said his title hit his ear so sourly. _'Geralt_.' As he began to shed his armor and shortly after his clothing her call of his name swirled in his head. He preferred it, he liked the way his name spilled over her lips. By the time the tub had been filled for him he still hadn't shaken the thought, that he wanted to hear her call it again. "Fuck." His fists bent at the edges of the wood as he felt blood pool in the pit of his abdomen.

As the sun began to set the group finally sat down for their long delayed lunch. Jaskier rambled off stories of his and Geralt's grand adventures. The Witcher only speaking up when Jaskier's tales drifted too far off into the realm of the absurd. While Thill listened with the usually fever of awe and amazement, Anima's attention seemed to be barely hanging on by a frayed lute string. "Are we keeping you from something?" Geralt broke Jaskier off at near the climax of a tale.

"My profession is all." She waved over the full tavern a bit of a sneer in her smile.

"Coin isn't everything Anima. Please just have fun for a night." Thill pleaded.

"Adverse to a good time? Obsessed with their job. Geralt were you separated from a red headed twin at birth and didn't tell me?"

"No more charity that's what you said right?" Geralt ignored the bard in convincing fashion.

"I did. Though you did stop a possible genocide so I suppose that does put you back in our good graces." Anima was took ever so slightly by surprise at how intensely Geralt was staring at her. He reached to his side and pulled up his satchel of winnings. He pulled out a handful of gold coins.

"Is this enough?"

"It's more than enough for what you're after Witcher come on." She stood from her seat. Helping the Witcher sleep wasn't something she enjoyed taking coin for. She started her way towards her room but was halted by a slightly rough grip on her wrist.

"And I'm after more?"

"Oh?" Anima's smile lost all dismissal as she looked deep in the Witcher's eyes to asses his new desires.

"What. Is. Happening?" Jaskier's jaw was nearly on the Inn floor. He got no answer as He and Thill were deserted without another word from the barmaid nor the Witcher.

As she heard the door latch behind the Witcher she began to disrobe, till she effortlessly stood their bare, her back still towards Geralt. She heard his gloves hit the floor. then felt calloused hands attempt to be soft as they traveled over her skin. They traced over every inch but he wasn't exploring. She knew this touch, he was inspecting. "I see, looking for more clues are we?" Though her smile didn't budge She felt a way she hadn't in years, embarrassed, as his finger traced a scar near her kidney once twice a third time. Disappointment was mixed in there but she chose to ignore it.

"Do you hate them?" Even his voice was bending to sound as soft as his gruff vocal cords would allow. This scar it wasn't from an accident in the wilds, or a heavy handed patron, it was from a soldier's blade he was sure of it. It wasn't an anomaly, her body was a constellation of out of place marks, from man and monster alike.

"The scars? Perhaps my beauty has been slightly marred-"

"Humans." He wouldn't allow her to use her silver tongue to shirk away this time.

"I . . ." Words formed and died on her lips. She sat down on her bed, her head hung for only a moment before glancing up an admittedly poor attempt at a smile on her face. "Not all of them . . . Not most of the time. Sometimes I worry I'll-" She shook her head trying to dislodge some sense. "You didn't pay to hear my worries Witcher."

"I wish you'd be more forthcoming." He sat beside her. Geralt was able to pry a dry chuckle from Anima. "Law of diminishing returns I see."

"Huh?" She truly had no idea what he meant by that.

"Last night that phrase rewarded me with a kiss as I recall."

"Ah." This chuckle had more life behind it. "If reward is what your after, you're going about it in the most tortuous way."

"Jaskier has said . . . I'm a bit of a glutton for misery."

"Duly noted." She was comfortable again, in her wheelhouse. She leaned in a kissed the Witcher, not a quick peck but a confident crash of her lips against his. She bit ruthlessly hard at his bottom lip, a lesser man would have recoiled as she drew blood but the white wolf simply emitted what was as much a growl as it was a groan. If Anima had convinced herself she was in control a swift motion of hips quicker than a blink convinced her otherwise. His touch changed, he was exploring, teasing in points tickling, causing her to giggle between clutches for air. It had been long, immeasurably so since he heard such soft lighthearted sounds directed his way.

"Quite a sensitive one." He jested.

"You have no idea." She felt the exploration dip lower tickles turned to taunts of her most sensitive parts. Anima wiggling and writhing under Geralt's weight dipped her hand beneath his shirt, raking nails down to his naval, tracing softly up against her fresh marks. She attempted to explore lower but in another blink her wrists were locked above her within a vice like grip. "Witcher what are you-"

"Quiet."

"What?"

"Don't speak." there was an odd command to his voice. Anima cocked her head to the side trying to figure out what was actually unfolding.

 _'Oh . . . he's pretending I'm someone else.'_ She rationalized best she could. It was a task easier said than done, blood wasn't exactly surging to her brain. She was aflame, as fingers thrust in and out she bucked up to meat him.

"Shhh!" He wanted her quieter still but it wasn't a request she could meet, whines and groans hissed past clenched teeth.

"Witcher p-" words were sucked deep inside of her gut as the fingers were replaced with a slow and rhythmic thrusts of Geralt's length. Fingers freed up and honed in on the center of her nerves. An attack on her body that depending on your perspective lasted hours or moments, bringing her right to the edge and once he felt her muscles tense just before release he would slow. "Wit-"

"Don't call me that." He froze all motions waiting patiently for her frenzied eyes to meet his.

"Geralt! I'll go mad just give me relief." Another twist of hips and Anima found her hands free her body atop his.

"Go mad then." He had a satisfied grin perched on his face. It took a moment for her to process the series of events. This was his powerplay, he wanted her to want it, to need it. To want him, Geralt the man, erase any thought of the white Witcher. "You aren't expecting me to do all the work are you?" He didn't want her back in her senses, he didn't want her to rest. Not daring to be hushed again she ground herself feverishly against him, gliding up and down with dripping ease, pulling in a vengful way on Geralt's hair, exposing his neck, which she sunk her teeth as climax washed over both of them. Anima's bones turned to jelly she colapsed ontop of Geralt.

She nestled her ear over his heart. "So W . . . Geralt. Any new guesses?"

"You're dangerous Anima."

"Dangerous?" She chuckled her eyes growing heavy.

"A dangerous woman indeed." Craning his face he could see a smile curl on her face. "Human's are jealous petty creatures Anima" He was speaking to himself as much as her, petting aimlessly at her hair. "They don't want to see those with more of . . . anything whether it be a Witcher's sense or a . . ." He paused jokingly waiting for Anima to finally shed some light on her entomology. He unsurprisingly was not enlightened, but was rewarded by the sound of soft snoring against his chest. "We are more Anima . . . we have to BE more and not let them have us think ourselves less." He let out an exasperated sigh, motivation was not his strong suit. He pulled a blanket over the duo and let sleep overtake him.

"Geralt?!" There was a feverish tapping on Anima's door. "Geralt?!" The tap turned to a knock. "Thill says Roach has gone missing! Geralt?!" Before the knock could escalate to a bang the door whipped open to a groggy, cranky faced Anima.

"Your Witcher's in another castle." She bent a crick out of her neck, glaring at the twosome of Jaskier and Thill who had now twice in a row woke her from her slumber.

"You sweet thing if you think this Inn a castle you need to see more of the world." Jaskier shook his head as his mind drifted to fantastical memories of ornate kingdoms.

"The world is over rated." She slammed him back to reality. "And don't call me sweet thing. Describe it anyway you like, he's not here." She moved aside from her doorway exposing an empty bed, and wider yet an empty room.

"He left?" Jaskier stamped his foot in annoyance.

"Without you? Must've been urgent." The ever naïve Thill interjected.

"Yes . . . must've . . .real time sensitive. He would never leave . . . hasn't . . . this isn't like Geralt." Jaskier leaned into Thill's thought that he and the Witcher were a inseparable team of adventures.

"Right." Anima leaned against her door frame shutting her eyes. "Well he left an hour ago perhaps more. If you jog-"

"Wait he said goodbye to you and couldn't even give me a heads up?!"

"I never said he bid me a formal farewell, just that he left." Anima corrected with a yawn. "You can rub that salt in him bard. Witcher isn't as stealthy as he'd like to believe." Her cocky smile was met with two pairs of questioning eyes asking why she hadn't stopped him. "Do you think pleading would have made a difference?" She retorted their silent judgements. "In my experience if a man is keen to sneak from your bed it's a fools gambit to convince him otherwise." She added with a shrug. "Bard the gap is only widening. Either chase after him or wait for him to return." She began to close to her door on the mutes. "Geralt will be back, if time doesn't get the best of us." And with that her door slammed shut.


	3. The bad times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too many vampires. Too much fluffy Angst. No such thing.

Months seemd to trickle by. He did have all intentions of revisiting Anima whether it was for rest or for more he was still debating. As their travels brought them closer to Lyria the battle crept more often than he'd care from his unconcious back thoughts to his fore focus. But it was in a different Inn in it's sister city that drove him from yearning to action. "You did what?" Geralt slammed a fist hard into a table of patrons that the witcher, or anyone with two working ears could not help but hear. The thud of which his palm met wood even prompted silence from Jaskier's lute that had been strumming festively.

"We don't need your services Witcher. We reasoned with the monsters."

"One doesn't reason with monsters." Geralt snapped. "You simply delayed your undoing by what? Providing them travel to an unprepared mass of food? So they can come back stronger? Hungrier?" In the moment it was Geralt who looked ravenous, like he would bite the baron's head clean from his shoulders.

"Geralt . . . friend?" Jaskier placed a tenative hand on one of Geralt's squared shoulders. "Everything alright?"

"They're escorting Bruxa to Lyria"

"Bruxa? Aren't they vampires?"

"Yes"

"And Lyria that's where that Inn you like so much is isn't it?" To this Jaskier got no verbal response, Geralt being all but physically unable to admit he liked much of anything. "What is with them and vampires? Didn't you fight vampires the last time we were there?"

"No. Last time we were there you goaded me into a tournament w-"

"Oh right the tourney with those two lovely . . .Oh now I see. But there were plenty of monster in that tourney are you sure there weren't any vampires?" Jaskier floated absent mindly from point to point.

"Hmm." Geralt did not have time for such semantics and made his way to the door.

"Right. get ahead of the trouble, be twice the hero get paid twice as handsomly. Or . . .or are we doing it to save your damsel in distress?"

"You're telling me the Witcher's got a woman in waiting?" The Baron of bright ideas chimed in again.

"Well I wouldn't say waiting . . . see she's-"

"Jaskier!"

"Yes? Shut up? Fairly certain he meant to say shut up." The bard skipped the paces between them as to not to be left behind again.

"So for maxium seduction points does one roll into the Inn and declare you're there to save the day? Or . . . kill the beasts first? Slam a severed head on a table and let the affection pour over you?"

"Jaskier I'm-"

"You're right. Saying it out loud a severed head isn't as sexy as it sounded in my mind."

"I'm going to Lyria to kill Bruxa. Not to seduce."

"Right. It's a witcher's duty to hunt monsters and be immesurebly cruel and crass to their charming companions, sure. Tell me Geralt. With that straight scowling face of yours that you would have been so furious with the baron had your precuous Inn not been in the cross hairs? Be honest Geralt you truely expect me to believe you don't feel anything at all for the snarky little red head?"

"Feel? You've been singing too many half baked sonnets bard. Haven't you heard what they say about Witchers?"

"I have." Jaskier watched as Roach's trot sped up. "And if anyone knows what made up shite to sell a story sounds like . . . it's me!" He shouted across their widening gap.

It wasn't an exact science, if one, even one with heightened senses could smell emotion. Science or not the town reeked of fear, despair and a far more tangible odor, death. "So many? Already?" Geralt winced as the stench of soured bodies greeted them at the edge of town.

"I'm telling you. Vampires love the place. must be something in the . . .blood?" Jaskier made more of a statement of than a hypothesis.

"It hit them out of nowhere. They had no chance to mount a defense."

"Are they . . . all dead?" Jaskier took all humor from his voice.

"No."

"Well that's good! Perhaps we should stop at the Inn check-"

"It's a plague Jaskier. If I don't put a stop to it now . . . they will all die."

"Urgency yes. But I think going into battle distracted is-"

"Distracted? Jaskier enough! I don't have time-"

"Did I say you distracted? I meant me." Jaskier changed tactics, realizing he was not going to Geralt to admit that this was any different than any other monster hunt. "Please, let me just make sure Thea-"

"Thill." Geralt corrected, blowing Jaskiers plan of self depreciation out of the water. The bard was not in the slightest deterred.

"Yes my dearest Thill. Let me just check on her well being and then we can kill monsters till your over grown arms give out."

"Hmm" Geralt was visably insulted that Jaskier thought even had he gotten the name right he would have succeeded in his deception. "Go on then. You remeber where the Inn is don't you? Right where we left it. Stay there, don't let anyone leave till I return."

"Return? Damnit Geralt just pop your head in tell them you're not going to let them die and then go . . . Witcher. It's the least you can do."

"The least I could do is pass right through the town. I'm not under anyone's contract. Jaskier why are you-"

"Pass right through? We both know you've never just **passed** through a town in your life!" The reason Jaskier was pressing so hard was though he didn't know what it was there was a distinct reason Geralt was avoiding the Inn. If Anima was dead he would have galloped into the woods with a blood lust. Instead he traveled forward at a steady pace his eyes angrily darting to the Inn to spite his face. Whether she was injured or sick Jaskier didn't know. Truthfully he didn't pretend to understand the full scope of what Witcher's could or could not sniff out. What he did know was Geralt was rilled, distracted and that could get them both killed. A creek of an opening door from the now infamous Inn put a hault to their sqabble.

"Witcher?!" Thom's voice was as happy as always to greet them, but there was a tiredness that hadn't been there a year ago. "How do you always to manage to show up right when we need ya? Come in!" He waved over the two lone souls smack in the middle of town.

"You heard the man!" Jaskier's chin was to the sky in a victorious fashion.

"Fuck." Geralt grumbled as he dismounted.

"Look what the winds brought in!" Thom shouted into the thinly populated bar. "Witcher I'm sure you've noticed we've seen better days. It may take a day or two for us to afford you but trust I will pay-" He tried to hide the panic in his pitch but it bled past his welcoming smile.

"You're good for it I know." Geralt tried to quell the man's fears.

"Though a deposit would go a long way." Jaskier's addition was met with a swift punch to the gut.

"Geralt?" Thill appeared from the kitchen. "And Jaskier?"

"Yes yes I'm alive settle your bets." Jaskier while still rubbing his stomach grimmaced.

"This is wonderful news! Our prayers are answered. And Anima, she'll be so happy to see you!" If Thill was scared, desperate or tired it didn't penetrate her never ending barricade of optimism.

"And where is she?" Jaskier finally remembered why he wanted them to visit the Inn in the first place.

"Her room." Geralt answered.

What he had been doing his best to ignore while outside the walls was now smacking him across the face. She smelled of an aged pantry, long dried fruits and cracking tea leaves, on the fresher side of cloyingly sweet. She smelled of sweat, of sex. He could hear it now, it's almost all he could hear. Hollow moans and false gasps. He could smell him too, dirt and grease surely rubbing against her skin, hear his rough greedy grunts. His ears could barely be pried away to hear Thill's words. "She'll be out soon." But those words lost all Geralt's attention to the next sound coming from Anima's chambers.

"Take it all you animal." His hands were around her throat, her gasps were no longer superficial and stroaking but jaged and desperate. "Come now whore beg-" He couldn't manage another word, not with his scalp being all but wrenched from his skull, tossing him with weight to the floor.

"What the-" Anima ran a palm across her reddened neck. "Fuck." She bleated out a cough. "Geralt?" She asked as if she could have mistaken him for anyone else.

"Hey I paid for my time. Wait your turn Witcher!" He must have been half past drunk, it's the only explanation for the zeel of which he pushed as Geralt's chest to move him out the way. He was met with a shove of his own sending him bare as the day he was born out onto the Inn' floor. "Thom are you going to let this stand? Witcher throwing his weight around like he owns the place?"

"Gotten less complaints about the Witcher than I have of you. Were you hurting one of my girls?"

"No."

"Yes." Geralt's perspective differed.

"Context is key!" Anima shouted from behind as she began to get dressed.

"Listen you don't make the rules around here." Even from his humiliated position the naked man looked down at the Witcher.

"And contrary to what Anima would have you believe neither does she. I think it's best if you go. The Witcher's services are needed. Your's are not."

"Can I atleast get my clothes." The scolded man made another atempt to enter the room but Geralt would not budge. He did have enough in him to pick up the crumpled cloth and throw it to the man.

"It was under control." Anmia did what that drunkard wasn't able, shoved past the Witcher.

"Clearly." Geralt did not even make eye contact as she walked by. She felt it again, that rare feeling of embarrassment sloshed around with anger for Geralt sticking his nose where it didn't belong and a small twinge of apreciation for his concern. The later was so alien that she audibly scoffed at it.

"Safe to say you didn't show up to fill the open body gaurd position. What brings you here Witcher? News of the vampires reach you?"

"Hmm" It was slightly less effortless of Geralt to change gears. "Need to make sure the buildings are locked down, make sure none have taken nest here. Then I'll find thier den. Where is your blacksmith? apothecary?" He began to create his monster hunting shopping list.

"You need a travel guide?" Thill proposed from the blue.

"No." Geralt shut down the idea.

"He in no way said that." Anima concurred.

"Anima he's saving us. the least we could do is show him the place he's protecting."

"We? Least we could do is-"

"Pass through town?" Jaskier broke his record silence to point out the glaring similarities in their stubbornness.

"What?" Anima paused confused.

"Nothing he's an idiot."

"I know numbers damper your ability to brood but it would save time if we knew where we were going would it not?" Jaskier took up where Thill had left off.

"This is wasting daylight." Geralt grumbled as he made his exit. He reasoned the town was small enough for him to find what he needed.

"Not saying No is basically Geralt's open invitation. Trust me." Jaskier would not allow today be the day he headed his friend's blatent warnings. "I would gladly be escorted round town with two lovely ladies on my arms." A fist perched on each hip waiting eagerly. Geralt's loss would be his gain.

"Anima? If you don't help because it's the right thing to do, help because after that show you'll have no more customers till the Witcher leaves." Thill seemed unable to reach Anmia's morality, but her desire to be proftable was always a low hanging fruit. Anima's arms folded over her chest when no argument imidietly hit her lips.

"Don't want to keep the Bruxa hungry." Resentful stomps lead Anima out the Inn.

"I can't be the only one who sees it am I?" Jaskier blinked stupified at the door that slammed behind her.

"Fuck!" Geralt's march to the blacksmith was haulted by the sounds of footsteps behind him. "I told you to stay behind!" He didn't turn.

"As your personal historian I can state with authority that you did not." Jaskier jogged to catch up.

"For a man who sings of the joys of life tell me Bard why do you seek a painful death?"

"Death? No. Living is more my speed. But I want to write the stories Geralt, not hear them. Peril is a risk a true artist must take."

"Hmm." He had heard similar words from Jaskier before. "And the choir?" Geralt glanced over his shoulder at Anima and Thill. It was almost comical watching Thill hike her dress above her ankles to keep the garment clean as her pace quickened. Anima's arms still folded, her face still cross as she slowly followed.

"As your friend Geralt-"

"You're not-"

"I worry sometimes the bleakness will consume you, all you'll see is monsters and schemers. It's important to stop and apreciate the bright bits. You're in a spat but I can tell."

"Tell what?"

"Having her near brings you some peace."

"Monsters are simple." Geralts scanned the shaddows for signs of beasts. " Peace is . . . complicated." Was Jaskier right? Geralt found himself stealing glances at Anima again, he felt a tightness in his bones he never noticed ease slightly. He shrugged off the notion, Jaskier knew only of stories, not of the real workings of the world. He entered the blacksmith's and commissioned a hasty sharpening of his blades.

"If you had headed my warnings of falling for bar maids but noooo!" Jaskier chastised the air.

Thill kept the silence at bay as they waited for Geralt's weapons. Gossiping of the coming and goings of the townsfolk. A baker that was a lord who faked his death, a housewife who dabbled in witchcraft, a charming family of elves who bred the towns mares so forth and so on. As the stories praddled on Geralt approached Anima "You know you're a smart woman you-" Geralt stopped when she doubled over and gagged. Concern was quickly replaced with an eye roll when he saw her repeat the action louder and more theatrical.

"Anima?" Thill paused her yarn.

"Yes?" She snapped to full attention, a face void of sickness and plastered with a sarcasticly cheerful smile.

"Are you . . . alright?"

"Grand. Go on." Anima gave an encouraging nod. "Witcher is this where you tell me I can leave this all behind and become a school teacher or a house wife?"

"There are worse things."

"Then tell me why have you not abandoned the life of a Witcher? Eh? Could have been just a butcher IN Blavikan."

"That's different. If I don't hunt the monsters people will die."

"You saunter in here annually Witcher what do you know? Do you think if I don't appease men like Falk they'll keep their hands to themselves?" She wanted to shout but instead she whispered. "If not me who? Some other smart girl who could be anything? His hands would be round Thill's throat." Sadness hitched in her bones at the idea. She cared for all her Inn sisters but Thill, gossip, naivity and all had an extra special spot in Anima's jaded heart. "I can't protect them with steel and silver but I can't . . . can't do nothing can I? I take the brunt so they don't have to. It's not fair but it's life. What else would you have me do?" Her fists were balled, her brow furrowed as if the question wasn't merely hypothetical, like she was scowering the earth beneath them for any other option to sprout. Geralt had no response. Her words made logistical sense, he had already been painted a hypocrit. Despite sense the thought of men like Falk sucking the life from Anima's marrow one night at a time made bile churn in his gut. Before he could ponder the conudrum further a shrill cry from Jaskier broke his concentration.

"Geralt?!" A bruxa was rushing in their direction.

"Fuck." He had no choice but to barrel full force into the monster to imobilize it. "I need my sword!" he was wresting inbetween claws and fangs.

"Sword, sword right!" Jaskier scurried in the blacksmith's door. It only took a second for wings to spread, the Bruxa and Witcher rising to dizzying hights. With hearty flaps they were disapearing into the horizon.

"Damn it." Anima grabbed a bag from a table outside the shop and hopped onto Roach who bucked and brayed at the unfamiliar rider.

"What are you doing?" Thill could do little but watch as Anima awkwardly steered Roach in the direction of the floating Witcher.

"Swords will be worth dick if we lose him. Follow the nails." Anima threw a bent nail from the pouch she had nabbed. Roach finally seemed to relent and their pace quickened, out of town and eyesight.

"I've got the . . . Geralt?" Jaskier was a moment late and a mile short.

One arm was thrusting elbows into the core of the Bruxa to little effect. The other was pulling out a potion. If he was to hold this beast off with brute force till he got his hands on some silver he would need a boost. As the effects took over something was wrong. His eyes blackened, blood pooled but his pulse that normally slowed to a crawl instead rose, past it's normal beat, almost that of a normal human's, he felt a hum of alien adrenalin corse through his veins. Never having time to dwell one of his elbows finally hit it's mark. Arms holding him recoiled and Geralt crashed into the forest floor, only having enough time to turn his back to the earth. _'What?_ ' His back didn't burn, his ribs didn't ache. He felt nothing outside the unerving heavy heartbeat. His ears perked at the sound of familiar hoofsteps _. 'Finally.'_ But he was not greeted by Jaskier with his weapons but with an apparent out of breath Anima slumped over Roach's back.

"They'll be here." She huffed out once she caught his frustrated gaze.

His new found invincible body did him little good as one Bruxa became two then three. He could do nothing but take their lumps and bat them away with brawn and signs to keep their songs at a ditance. The little reprieve it did give him was keeping fatugue at bay, as time went on and numbers grew he did not grow winded. With no pain from the slashes and blows his mind could focus even more effectively on plotting and dodging.

"Geralt? Don't be dead, please don't be dead." Jaskier erupted from the darkness, Thill in toe. "See I . . ." Hands to his knees he began to pant. "Told you he was fine." Jaskier straightened with a wink thrown Thill's way.

"Sword Jaskier!" Geralt barked.

"Right!" An ill aimed toss landed Geralts sword in a bush.

"Fuck." Feet fought to beat wings as both Geralt and a bruxa bolted to the bush. Human eyes struggled to make sesne of the movements coming from the dense foliage. All questions were answered when Geralt emerged covered in blood dirt and leaves. _'Only . . .'_ He scanned surroundings. Seven more Bruxa were fluttering in and out of his sight. Seven Bruxa and one less Anima. "Where'd she go? Where's Anima?" Roach had not moved since her arrival but she was glaringly missing her rider. Had the songs of the Bruxa and his booming heartbeat caused him not to notice her being snatched away? He still couldn’t hear her but he could smell her. _‘Blood.’_

“Anima?” Thill cried out. She began running to try and find her friednd but was haulted when a Bruxa phased infront of her seeminglly out of nowhere. “Ahhhh!” Her face first flushed white in terror then was washed red with blood as The Bruxa’s head was severed from it’s body.

“This is why I go alone.” Geralt spat in Jaskier’s direction.

“If you were alone you’d be dead with no sword.” Jaskier tried his best to defend their actions.

“Anima?!” Thill didn’t even whipe the blood from her face, no longer lifting her dress as she ran from beasts and towards the void like wilderness. She had no time to listen to them bicker. “Anima? It’s Thill where are you?”

“This way. Stay behind me.” Geralt had to reign in this circus. He began pacing towards the scent of Anima’s blood. Clipping down a third and fourth Bruxa on their way.

She was curled up in a ball, wheezing in a sickly way, her hand clutching at her heart. Coughs and hacks painfully errupting between the wheezes, spraying blood into the grass at her cheeks. Her fingernails dug into the dirt as she contorted and writhed in muffled pain. She glanced up just in time to see a Bruxa sink her teeth into the meat of her right side. “Agk!” She yelped out, her eyes clenched waitng for a second bite but it never came. When her eyes reopened she saw her companions hovering over her.

“He’s got his sword Anima you can let him go.” Thill shook at Anima’s shoulders trying to get the attention of her lost dimming stare.

“Let go?” Jaskier didn’t understand. Geralt stared down at her mistified as he slowly made sense of it. Everything clicked as he heard her heartbeat clearly. It was slow, slow like his should have been. “She isn’t turning is she?”

“That’s not how vampires are made. What has she done?” He didn’t know how to fix this. She was still desperate for breath, still writhing with ache. This was no result of a Bruxa bite. She had his heartbeat and he didn’t know how. As he racked his brain he recalled a similar sensation the last time she had put him to sleep, his pulse had skipped right before he lost conciousness. “Thill? How do you break this spell?!” He could tell Anima was not hearing their words. Trying to reason with her was a lost cause.

“I don’t . . . I think she has to . . . she’s an empath. She’s feeling your pain. Anima LET HIM GO!” Thill was white noise. Anima couldn’t hear, could barely see, it was all a graying whirlpool.

“An empath? Empaths are grifters, less clout than a fortune teller they don’t have any real abilities.” Jaskier scoffed, empaths weren’t even dignified enough to be pulled out as a party trick.

“It’s a real ability but . . .” Geralt paused to ponder his vast knowledge. Phsyic empaths were actually quite common, especially in females but it was purely the ability to sense the emotion of others, not to steal them as their own, and it almost by definition excludes physical sensation. “Her blood.” The mutagen inside her, the one he couldn’t quite pinpoint. The more blood she hemopraged the more the scent smacked at his senses. Enchanted herbs and what had the almost non smell of glass. Could that have evolved her begine ability into something more volital?

“She’s not a monster.” Thill draped herself over Anima concerned that Geralt would turn his sword towards her.

“If she can’t break it, we need to get her to a healer to make sure she bears it.” He pushed Thill to the side, though not rough, it wasn’t poliet either. He cradeled Anima in his arms and walked over to Jaskier. “Watch your step.” He handed off the squirming woman with a hesitancy. He had to have his hands free, the forest was still crawling with at the very least two Bruxa.

It didn’t take long to find where they had left Roach. Geralt took Anima for a moment while Jaskier got atop. “You’ll give it back to me Anima.” The pain, the heartbeat he wanted it back from her, this brunt was not her's to bear. He handed Anima back to Jaskier and prompted Roach to Gallop. “We need to hurry.” Geralt guided Thill back to the town, taking down one more Bruxa on their way. He dodged more than he attacked, careful to not incure any further injuries. “How long has she had these abilities?” Geralt tried to fill in gaps as they walked.

“As long as I’ve known her I think.” Thill admitted pensively.

“When we were young I had a terrible tooth ache. Healer was off on a trip. I moaned and moaned for days and then out of nowhere it was gone. I thought I had been cured by some kind fairy. She would have let me believe that you know?” Thill gave a weak smile. “She won’t die will she?” This was it, even Thill’s optimism had it’s limits.

“What happened with the toothache?” Geralt knew his response to that question would be unessicarily cruel.

“Well it was Jam day-”

“Jam day?”

“Oh.” Thill chuckled. “It was a holiday we made . . . the two of us. It’s her favorite you know. Girl loves her jam. Maybe I’ll have the baker make her a jam pie tomorrow, that’ll lift her spirits right?”

“The toothache.”

“She wouldn’t eat. It was her favorite food and she wouldn’t eat. She tried to play it off that she had grown out of her taste for it but I pressed and nagged and finally she admitted she had a tooth ache. I knew . . . knew that it had to be mine. I tested it, pricked my finger with a sewing needle, didn’t feel a thing but Anima . . . . she flinched. Even when they pulled it.” She paused to point at a gap in her back molars. “She felt it and I felt nothing. She made me promise not to tell, she was scared.”

“Of who?”

“I don’t know . . . she doesn’t talk about it often.” She shook her head.

“Thill. Did Anima’s tooth fall out?” This was a critical point and he hoped Thill’s memory would hold up.

“No . . . for all the jam she eats not a single rotten tooth how funny is that?” It was soothing to her to keep the image of Anima’s happiest day of the year at the forefront of her head. “We’re here.”

The Bruxa wound had been sewn shut. A damp towel over her forehead, perspiration left a sheen all over Anima’s body. She was no longer wheezing, her breath was now short rapid albiet conisistant strokes. “Anima?” Thill ran to her side. “We’re here now Anima you can let him go.” She hoped to get a response but her hopes were met with silence.

“What have you given her?” Geralt didn’t walk up to Anima but instead interigated the healer.

“Beggartick for the pain. Scrapings from a Devil’s puffball to enduce a rapid fever.”

“Devil’s . . . isn’t that a bomb? What type of healer are you? Geralt I did not authorize-”

“He’s trying to get her heart rate up.” Had Geralt not been concerned it could just as easily kill her he would have seemed more impressed.

“What? Why?” Thill took it upon herself to keep busy, changing Anima’s towels.

“It’s not the pain that’s killing her. Her organs are starved for blood.”

“So she is turning into a vampire? I thought you said-”

“A human’s heart needs to beat at a certain pace to keep blood circulating to the organs. A Witcher’s mutations override that need. Our hearts beat almost a quarter as frequently. Anima’s got the pulse of a Witcher in the body of a barmaid. The black blood potion has worn off so she should be fairing better but if she doesn’t wake to break this spell her body will give out.”

“She won’t let you kill her Geralt. Anima’s stubborn like that.” Thill nodded to herself.

“Heart of a witcher body of barmaid. Make quite the tune wouldn’t it?” Jaskier did his best to add to the levity.

“Hmm” Geralt took a seat to take part in the waiting game. Finally he could see Anima’s condition in the full light. Her veins were protruding, starving, her muscles were twiching and flexing trying to do what her heart was not. It brought memories back, long dismissed as unnecessary, during his trails and early years as a witcher he felt that pain, the coagulation from within. Not anymore though, he had long since grown used to it. This feeling of helplessness pumping through his fast beating heart this was something he had sworn never to get used to, never to feel. Yet here he was.

It took nearly an hour for anything outside of groans and squeaks to come from Anima. It came with not a whisper but a bang. She cried a blood curtling scream into the room shaking all occupants to attention. “It hurts! Please take it out! It hurts! It’s tearing me apart! My head! It’s in my head! My eyes I can’t . . . Ahhhh!” Wordls melted into gut wrenching screams.

“Anima? Just let him go. You’ll be fine.” Thill pleaded again.

“She’s not awake.” Geralt knew a night terror when he saw one.

“Get it out, my blood it’s . . . it’s sharp!” She began clawing at her own arms. Geralt hopped up pinning her arms at her side.

“This is a good sign.” The words sounded familiar. Mutation after mutation each more painful than the last. As he felt his body reconstruct itself to the needs of the order he remember the docile musing of his pain being a ‘good sign.’

“Just kill me then! Let me die please! Father?” Her nails dug into Geralt’s arm, gripping it with all her depleated strength. This was too much for Thill who ran outside for air. Eventually Anima tired herself out and calmed back to a state of uncomfortable squirming. Thill eventually composed herself and returned and Geralt eventually took back his seat, resuming the wait.

Jaskier and and Thill had begun to nod off as the sun began to rise. Geralt sat unblinkingly only shuffling when he eventually felt a pain in his tailbone from sitting too long. Once he moved it hit him, he had felt that pain. After a pause to confirm that his heartbeat had slowed to a witcher's normal he stood. “That was a stupid thing you did Anima.”

“I was worried it wouldn’t work . . . They say Witcher’s don’t feel emotions like humans. Load of shit that is eh? Worked little too well I guess. What choice did I have though? If you died they would’ve killed the whole town wouldn’t they?”

“And you had no faith that I could hold my own until they brought my sword?”

“ I have little faith in anyone other than myself” Her voice was tired and horse from screaming.

“Hmm” He was beginning to give weight to Jaskier’s persistant comparrisons. "Don’t do that again.”

“I don’t use it often anymore, not like that. Normally-”

“You could have died.”

“Worried? Is that what I was feeling, it seemed more like . . . loss. I wasn’t the only one with little faith was I?” Anima smirked.

“Hmm” He was greatful they were no longer tied, firstly because that meant she would live and secondly if she could feel first hand how uncomfortable this conversation was making him she’d never let him live it down. “It was a stupid thing to do.” He repeated, running knuckles across her cheek. He could see that aloof sly smile reigniting in her eyes.

“Look at the company you keep, looks like you’ve got a softspot for fools." She leaned into his touch, nudging his hand open to allow her face to rest there. "So where to now Geralt?”

“There’s still one out there. I’ll finish the job then . . .Toussaint?”

“Bleak place or so I’ve heard. What’s there?” Her eyes fluttered shut.

“Now whose full of questions? Get some sleep.”

“I’m more than sitting aren’t I?”

“Bleak is good for business. Plus they’ve got Winter cherries.”

“Winter Cherries?”

“So you’re telling me you’ve never had winter cherry Jam?”

“Jam?” Her face sparked to life, eyes struggling to stay open despite her intrigue. “You’ve been talking to Thill I see.”

“She cares for you deeply that one” He nodded over at Thill who had worried herself to a seated sleep.

“I know.”

“You owe it to those who you care about not to seek death.”

“Careful with your words Witcher.”

“Hmm?”

“I cared enough about you to . . . do something stupid. Does that mean you have to live forever too?”

“You need to rest.” Geralt stepped away, not wanting to do or say something he’d regret.

“Least not till you bring me that winter cherry Jam you tease.”

“Deal.” He knocked Jaskier out of his chair. “Let the girls rest we’re going.”

“What men don’t need rest?” Jaskier protested but followed Geralt outside.

“Jaskier I need you to write a song.”

“What?” Jaskier’s heart nearly exploded with joy as if all his dreams were coming true at once. “The heart in the barmaid right? Catchy title.”

“No about the deviant eating vampires of Lyria.”

“Do they . . . do they actually have a taste for sexual deviants?” Jaskier’s mind wonder to some of the more resque copulations he had been a part of over the years.

“Fine don’t write it.” Geral shrugged.

“Don’t write it he said. I can’t not. Oh I’m writing it I’ll sing it from here to Niflgard!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very OC building heavy and I know that isn't as fun as fan service, but that's just how I'm finding myself writing this story so far.


	4. Out of time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a world outside of Lyria, it's not much safer.

""So . . . Lyria." Jaskier had been silent for an excruciating half an hour, he could suffer no longer.

"Yes." Geralt sighed, his limited peace shattered.

"So will I have to flee from some manner of vampire again?"

"One can only hope."

"Well if Vampires are only a maybe what excuse are you using to travel through these parts?"

"I'm delivering something."

"Oh I know that, but before you lay with your barmaid." Jaskier gave Roach a cheeky elbow which even she scoffed off.

Geralt's spirits which had been uncharicterisctly high, began to spoil. _'She's . . . not here?'_ He hesitated in front of the door for a moment, this was not how the moment had played out in his head on listless nights.

"Cold feet?" Jaskier called from a distance.

"Hmm." Geralt opened the weathered door. Day dreams and reality continued to diverge. The Inn was dark, stale and lifeless. He was not greeted with welcoming cheers but a hush falling over the crowd.

"We're closed." Janis the Inn keeper's wife finally broke the silence.

"Door was open." Not to mind the three men sat right up at the bar. Geralt was just buying time as he searched for clues. Any scent of her was deteriating, two months at the very least. There was a sound coming from her room, a heartbeat behind her door. _'Thill.'_ He started his way to familiar chambers but was stopped by a shout.

"Get out!" It was Thom. He would never be gaunt but it looked as if the Inn keeper had lost a dozen pounds and triple that in nights of sleep.

"And the bard's still alive!" Jaskier never one to read a room before entering jumped in behind Geralt.

"Where is she?" Geralt ignored the theatrics, still searching for signs of her.

"Maybe you hadn't heard me Witcher get out! Take your curse and leave Lyria!"

"Is she alive?" He began to wonder is she had not made a full recovery from their last encounter.

"Not if you have anything to say about isn't that right?"

"He would never hurt Anima. Geralt what's going on?" If the witcher was confused Jaskier was completely in the dark.

"Don't send Geralt. If he finds me he'll kill me. You calling Anima a liar? They wouldn't have even known about her mutation if I hadn't brought you into our lives " Thom gave Geralt a shove. Geralt's fists balled, a foot shifted forwards towards the man but then he rested on the balls of his feet.

"That makes no sense. Why-"

"Come on Jaskier. We're leaving." Geralt, fists slowly uncurling, made his way to the door.

"Leaving? You can't-"

"Now!" He did not have time to snarl and puff his chest, he needed answers and he was not going to get them here.

"Geralt did you . . . threaten to kill her? I assume pillow talk is not your strong suit but you can't just go around telling girls you'll-" Jaskier tried to come up with theroies as they exited the Inn.

"Jaskier shut up." Geralt began to creep around the broad side of the building, stopping when he got to Anima's window. Jiggling at steel and wood till there was an audible pop. In a fluid motion Geralt climbed in through the window and clamped a palm over Thill's mouth before she could scream. "I'm not going to hurt you. Understand?" He waited till Thill nodded. He slowly removed his leather clad hand from her face taking her wrist in his he escorted her out into the street.

The trio walked in silence until Jaskier could bear it no longer. "What the fuck ... is going on?!"

"Who took Anima?" The hostility that greated them made it readily aparent that Anima hadn't made a group of new friends and left the Inn to start a new life.

"I . . . I can't tell you." Thill was wringing her wrists. She had wanted to. The second they had loaded Anima onto that busted cart if it had been her choice she would have paid any price to have Geralt go after her. But it wasn't Thill's choice, she had made a promise. "She knew you would come back. She was really looking forward to it you know? I think it helped her get through those first couple months." Her eyes were glued to the dirt but she managed a small smile.

"The recovery?" Geralt didn't have time for whistful stories but he had to do his best to be patient.

"No the popularity. Anima's good with people but she's . . . not really a . . .people person. Once the news got out she was a true empath people flocked to her. Asked if she could help them cope with pain, sense the dead. Fiance's brought their soon to be betrothed to prove they were truly in love. She always pointed out how backwards it was to bring your soon to be husband to a brothel but-"

"Then what happened?"

"Geralt she made me promise." There was a whine to Thill's voice that was nagging at Geralt's dwindiling patience.

"Your promise will be useless if she's dead Thill."

"She's not going to die." Again with the sour, woe is me note.

"I'll find her and-"

"That's what I'm worried about. You heard Thom. She said you'd kill her."

"You can't really think Geralt would kill her do you? He traveled halfway cross the continent to bring her jam for Gods sake!" Jaskier felt the need to clear the name he had been working tirelessly to rebrand. Geralt remained quite, he felt that same anger from eariler vine out from his gut to every muscle in his body.

"Why would she say it then?" Again Thill wanted to believe that Geralt was good for Anima, that he'd protect her in the way she deserved, but she had doubts. "What if they turned her into a wraith or a drowner and he has to kill her? If the last thing she asked of me I ignore what kind of-"

"I'm going to find her you know that right?" Geralt snapped with bite, he had no outlet for the building tension inside him. The ease to his bones Anima normally provided had been reversed, it felt like they might splinter and burst from his skin. Thill nodded there was no denying the eyes of a wolf about to hunt. "The more I know. The less likely I am to kill her." It was unlikely but if Geralt had meant for those words to bring comfort they most certainly did not. "So if you won't tell me who . . . tell me why. Why did they come for Anmia?"

"Same reason as everyone else. To see the empath." She paused before tenitively going on.

\--Months back--

"I'm booked through sundown. You'll be waiting." Anima at first had seemed unphased by the strangers. They had been seeing more and more unfamiliar faces as of late.

"You're coming with us." A scar heavy elf seemed to be taking charge of this exchange, pushing bodies aside as he walked towards her.

"Well no one will be coming with that attitude." Anima got a rise of laughter out of the room as she chugged down the last of her drink. "Blek, no more of that. Thom? Can I get a water?" Asking for a water was the Inn girl's way of asking for backup when a patron was getting out of hand.

"Eh?" Thom entered the picture, it was rare indeed for Anima to request assistance. He always teased her for being too proud a girl. As would be expected from an empath she had a near pitch perfect read on people. It didn't take more than a few good glances for her to know they were trouble of an abnormal variety. She might have been proud but she wasn't stupid. "Sure." The bear made his way from behind the bar and to Anima's side. "And what can I get for you lot?"

"We're here for the mutant. Just stay out of it" A dager digged in a warning motion at Thom's breastbone.

"Listen I don't know what holes in the walls you're used to. But these girls are people not property they-"

"She's not one of yours human! She's transcended your race. Our cause fights for the rights of-" Thom had checked out after not one of his. All the girls were one of his, a big family of outcasts and for someone to spit in the face of his family could not stand. Thom took took the elf's collar and slammed his skull against the smaller man's. It wasn't so much a brawl as it was a beatdown. The elf and his goons jumped on Thom, pummeling him from every angel. Some regulars joined the mele but it made everything worse not better.

"Calm the fuck down!" Anima shouted once she caught view of the Elf's blade at Thom's neck. At her word the blade did fall, standing upright from the fray. She had used her power. It was far more than Geralt and Jaskier were aware of. Not only could she feel what others felt. She could make other's feel what she did. How she had remained calm enough to placiate the elf Thill had no idea.

\--present--

"Practice." Geralt stated with authority. "Training." Mutants were as much molded as they were made. A body boosted with abilities is useless without a mind to control it. He was sure whoever created her had drilled the skill to manifest, hold and change emotions at the shake of a tail. He thought back to one of Anima's throw away statements. ' _An emotion. I hardly feel them spontaneously anymore.'_ Her laugh rang hollow in his ears. He wondered what feeling she was clinging to now. What strategy she was using to starve off fear or pain.

"What cause were they fighting for?" He didn't have time to wonder. The anger inside of him continued to swell.

"You and Anima think alike anyone ever tell you that?" Thill gave half a chuckle. Jaskier went to open his mouth but decided against it.

\--Months ago--

"More than just a pin cushion I see." Most of the grit had been taken out the elf's voice.

"Ani run!" Thom punched the leader between the eyes. This was her chance, her only chance to run and never look back, get away from these thugs and disappear, but loyalty would not allow it. She was bolted to the ground as she watched an iron chain pull across Thom's throat, choking him.

"Damnit Thom I can't make them all reasonable." Anima's teeth ground. That was her abilitity's biggest limitation, it was personal. She could only link herself to one individual at a time. "If you kill him I swear you won't take me alive. Whatever cause you're fighting for. Whatever you want me to do-"

"Humans." The elf paused to motion for Thom to be released. "They took what was rightfully the Elder's, bastardized it. Used it against us. Casting us out of our cities. We-"

"Love a good history lesson as much as the next but how can I help you right the great wrongs?"

"You and your kind are a human mistake he can fix. And with powers like yours back in our hands-"

\--Present--

"The mad mixer of Mayena! It has to be him they're taking her to!" Jaskier shook at the Witcher with urgency.

"Who?"

"Remember? I told you I met his at a feast I was performing at in Temeria. He was really taken with my songs about you. Said he could cure you . . . if you ever grew tired of you know all this-"

"There's no undoing what was done."

"I know. That's what you said last time. You know I'm beginning to think you don't-"

"Jaskier." Geralt grabbed the bard by his sleeve "What makes you so sure it's him?" Temeria was a far place to travel on a hunch when time was of the essence.

"I mean you said it can't be done, and maybe it can't but if anyone else is claiming they can cure mutations. Convincingly enough to spur elves and and halflings to storm through vampire infested Lyria. I haven't heard hide nor hair."

"Hmm." Geralt stared at Thill for affirmation but he got none. She either did not or could not have anything to say.

They pushed, right past Rivia which was when abouts Jaskier began moaning for rest, but they continued to push all the way to the edge of the Mahakam mountains. "Meet less resistance going up. The climb will take longer." Geralt was gauging up the obtrusive rock face.

"Geralt stop! Roach needs a break." The horse whinnied after Jaskier in agreement. "I . . . I don't understand. I mean I do but I . . . don't" He had been catching his breath for days.

"What?"

"You are willing to drill a hole through this mountain with your fists. For a girl you've met . . . three times? This isn't like you." Jaskier was exhausted, he was not trying to pick a fight simply understand where Geralt's head was at.

"I . . . I don't feel at peace . . . at rest. It's-" Geralt trailed off. He couldn't explain it himself. Except that was exactly it, he didn't have to explain himself, or preface his actions, when he was with Anima it was effortless. In a world that was too much, pressing at him from every angel, demanding every last breath of him, being around Anima was a chance to inhale. He hadn't taken time to apreciate it in the moment but when he was around her all weight lifted, all precedence was moote, he could just exist as he was around her and that seemed to be enough. He wasn't sure what conventional feelings he had for her, he hardly knew her. Despite that even in limitied doses it was worth mining through a mountain to breath.

"I was just wondering if she . . . used her power on you. If she made you feel . . . you know-"

"We'll go around." Geralt, dismounted from Roach, tossed his belongings to the dirt.

"Geralt I din't mean to . . . wait where are you going?" Jaskier watched as the Witcher turned his back to him, walking in a direction counter to Temeria.

"Your legs need rest. My ears do." Geralt gave a wave without acknowledgement.

"I'm just trying to be helpful. If you have a better explanation for this sudden surge of heroics I'm listening."

"Set up camp here. I won't be far off." Geralt's gate did not pause or faulter.

"So we're just going to ignore this then?"

"If you've been helpful in anyway Jaskier. It's in teaching me to ignore annoying problems." And Geralt disappeared into the night, searching out a spot to mediate.

Did it matter at all? If it was a bewitchment, a spell cast over him he hadn't noticed. Could he will himself to care? With eyes shut he could feel her cloudlike flesh at his finger tips. He had wanted to hear her, feel her please her. The sound of her laughter hummed in his ear like a siren's song. Perhaps in her years of calculated emotions and pandering to needs of the flesh she had known exactly what he desired and catered to them. But why him? He didn't shower her with coin or promises of a life together. What had earned him any affection. _'Geralt.'_ His fingernails had dug into her hips. _'Give me relief.'_ He had. A man whittled into a weapon, all sharp edges, was able of give, to another sharpened soul. Was this all smoke and mirrors? No . . . manipulated or not, Anima had wanted him.

 _'She knew you'd come back. She was really looking forward to it.'_ Geralt grimaced. **Was** Had he lost her favor? Had she found someone else to bring her relief? Someone who showed up more often than the solstice? _'Don't send Geralt. If he finds me he'll kill me.'_ Fists clenched tight. Had she heard tales of the ruthless white wolf? Could he convince her otherwise?

 _'He traveled halfway cross the continent to bring her Jam.'_ Reflection was inturupted by shooting pain coursing through Geralt's veins.

A hazy image of an unfamiliar prison cell came into focus. "Apple, Blueberry, cherry-" It was Anima pacing, covered in grime and eyes rabid with frenzy.

"Anima!" Geralt reached out to her but she shuffled just of reach.

"Date . . . .E . . . E . . . Fuck!" Anima grabbed at the bars of her cell. " E . . . E . . ." Holding nothing back she slammed her head into the steel, blood seeping from her scalp. "What . . . what is it?" Bone and metal rang in a sick bell and hammer parody.

"Anima!" He grabbed her from behind squeezing her to a stall. She didn't acknowledge him, looking into her light eyes she didn't see him . . . didn't see anything at all.

" What have they done to you?"

"Sad? Loss? Who . . . Who now? Where are you?" The way her neck craned and whipped was inhuman. "Stop!" Anima held her hands to her head. "Quiet you beasts!" Her cry went from pain to rage.

"Anima." He held her tighter still.

"Worry? I . . . know this. I know this. What do you want?!" She again crescendoed from meak to crazed. Geralt needed to find a way to get through to her before her mind completely unraveled. Glancing at their surroundings he saw the carvings in the stone walls. Fruits over and over, every free inch had been defaced.

"Wha... Jam day." As the initial shock of Anima's condition wore off, what was transpiring infront of him became clear. This was her strategy, she was desperately holding onto her fondest memory to keep whatever horrors were bombarding her at bay. However long it had been, whatever they were doing to her was depleting her hold on the memory and her sanity. "Elderberry." He rested his chin atop her head trying to transfer some of his resolve to her.

"Elderberry." As the mental itch was scratched Anima seemed to calm, but the clarity lead to concern. "Geralt?" Anima spun around. She couldn't see him, he wasn't truly there, but she could feel him. "Geralt stay away!" She warned the spectre.

"Anima I won't kill you. You're not a monster."

"Aren't I? Haven't I always been? You won't have a choice Geralt. This place . . . it makes the choices for you." He could see her focus dwindling, the madness leeching back in. He could hear footsteps.

"Just hold on Anima."

"Finally you've stopped screaming." A man in an ill fitting Druid garb approached the cell. Gearalt's teeth neearly cracked under the force of his clenching jaw. Watching Anima take steps back from the bars made it evident this was her tormentor and here all the Witcher could do was watch.

"The anger Geralt. I can't . . . there's already too much." She kneeded at her temples.

"Geralt? Halucinations? Or hearing voices?" The druid seemed to take a mental note. "It's to be expected, with all the sensory overload you've endured, something had to give eventually. I can take you somewhere Anima. Somewhere quiet. Away from all the noise."

 _'Noise?'_ Geralt didn't hear any sounds outside the conversation. Anima seemed to contemplate the druid's offer for a moment but she, in a motion that appeared to take all her energy shook her head No.

"You'll come around Anima." The cell door opened. Anima fell to her knees holding her skull as if it would burst on release.

"Anima?" Geralt was helpless.

"The Scoia, they want me to fix you." He was petting her head as one would with a housepet. "Turn you over to them Anima. Think of all the Anger, all the pain you'd endure with them. It will take time, but you'll realize I'm your savior." He was producing something from his pocket but Geralt could not see what. His hold on this plane, his connection to Anima was waining. Something held to her face, a shriek of pain and they were gone.

Geralt was stuck, staring up at the sun breaching a miserable mountain. "Jaskier we're leaving." Geralt hoisted the sleeping man to his feet.

"Hey Geralt watch the . . . you look like shit. Sleep on a particularly sharp rock did we?"

"She's running out of time Jaskier." Geralt and Roach were already making paces away from camp.

"Anima? Geralt don't think like that. She's as tough as nails that one. For all we know-"

"Even nails break when bent."

"I hate swamps. Make you wet and hot in all the worst ways. Terrible on the leather. There's something off about the way this place smells." Jaskier grimaced at the suction sound of boots trudging through mud. " Suppose the lilly pads are quaint. Try to see the beauty in everything." He strummed casually at his lute to calm his uneasy nerves. "O'er glistening roofs you float. Through lily-strewn rivers you dive. Yet one day I will know your truths. If only I am still alive..."

"Jaskier! You won't live to see another day if you keep braying at the top of your lungs!"

"Braying?! Now I will not . . . Geralt? Your ear." The bard stopped in his tracks. Nearly since their first footstep into the swamp Geralt had been swatting, scratching, digging at his ear. An hour ago it had been a raw pink by this point the skin had broken, blood had seeped and dried. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you" Geralat was in a bad mood at the best of times. Jaskier while the reasoning escaped him also accepted the fact that Anima's uprooting had been a true blow to Geralt. Despite these two facts it still unerved Jaskier that Geralt appeared to be growing less contemplative and dismissive and more vocally hostile.

"Geralt I . . . shit!" Jaskier barely had time to duck beneath the witcher's blade. The bard backed himself into a tree and watched Geralt do battle. His opponents were three what appeared to be humans turned inside out with the nimble agility of a cat in heat. Geralt's dispatched two with efficiency but while going after the third a bigger, pointier skinless being, was swung at with a spiked club, connecting squarely with his ribs. Jaskier could hear it, the unmistakable sound of bones breaking. If it has phased Geralt in anyway it seemed to have only made him angrier. While the beast wound up again Geralt pulled it's foot from under it. Instead of taking his blade and cleaving off the brutes throat Geralt opted to lay punch after punch into it's thick skull. Tossed off with authority, Geralt's spine put a dent in a century old oak. He did not hesitate, or regroup, or even grab his sword he simply charged again throwing his shoulder into fortified flesh. A bang rang out and the swamp filled with a cloak of smoke. This paniced effort plucked from the Witcher's bag gave Jaskier enough time to try and pull Geralt to safety but there was resistance almost immidiately.

"Let go!" Geralt shoved him away with force. "I'll kill every last one of them." He was practically frothing at the mouth.

"Geralt? Did you take one of your potions?" Jaskier wondered if perhaps it was a bad batch.

"What?!" Geralt began stalking in the direction of the brutes.

"Your eyes are doing that thing where they swallow your face and you look like a ghoul fucked a barn owl."

"No I . . ." Some semblance of sense seemed to be returning to Geralt's brain. He finally paused to breath. He took one of his side dagers out to look at his own reflection. "I didn't." This didn't make sense but he didn't have time to figure out what was going on.

"Something in this swamp is effecting you. We should leave . . . reassess, figure out a plan-"

"What part of running out of time are you not understanding?" Geralt recovered his sword and resumed his march to the estate buried in the Willows. He may have regained his sense, but not his calm.

"I . . . shit this isn't going to end well." Jaskier hesitantly followed the irate witcher.

Another hour passed before they reached the garish stone behemeth errected admist the marsh. How long had the druid been standing outside waiting for them. No thoughts, no words, pure impulse, Geralt charged and swung. "I wouldn't -" The blade bounced off a quick pulse of a forcefield. "Your friend and I are quite close. I'd hate to hurt her." Those words did not hit Geralt's ears and he swung again and a third time, each attack fended off by magic.

"Geralt He's attached to Anima if you land a blow you'll hurt her!"

"Where . . . is she?" Geralt emerged from his mental fog, fighting against every instinct to strike again.

"Still talking? Strong mind this one." There was a slight annoyance to the compliment. "It's why I don't normally bother with Witchers, more hassle than they're worth."

"What are you talking about? What did you do to him?" Jaskier paniced.

"I'm perfecting him. He hunts monster. I've made him faster, stronger. Stamina, Agility, Agression. His senses all elevated."

"You've made him a raging lunatic! I thought you said that you cure mutations."

"I am curing them. The only thing that keeps mutants from being perfect specimins is the human mind holding them back."

"You're curing their humanity?" Jaskiers stomach dropped. Looking over at Geralt who stood frozen in place white knuckling his steel sword. Was he mere moments from being no more than an upright wolf?

"Anima. Where is she?" Geralt seemed to be strugling to form words.

"I don't want to kill you Witcher. She's quite fond of you and she's a very sensitive specimine."

"Stop calling her that." Geralt clenched his eyes shut, fighting the voices in his head demanding blood.

"Go home Witcher." The druid opened his door pausing to leave them with a last warning. " It's only stronger inside. You wouldn't be able to control yourself. You'd kill every living soul, you'd kill Anima."

"G . . . Geralt?" A few moments frozen in time had past.

"Stay. Back." Finding words was a task adjacent to remembering a dream after waking. As much as he teased and berated the bard he didn't wish to harm him. As anger flooded through him he was unsure if the wrong word was uttered he'd be able to stop himself.

"I know I can't convince you to turn around but we have to-"

"He was bathing . . . with her." Geralt had smelled her, among the herbs and bathing salts sticking to the druid's skin. Her scent was lingering in the air.

"Ok I under-" Jaskier's sentance was broken by the sound of Geralt kicking at the estate door. "Geralt what's your plan?"

"Kill." He kicked at the door again, wood was splintering.

"Kill great . . . fool proof. What about Anima?"

"Find her Jaskier." Aparently he had forgotten the warning to stay away he had seconds ago growled. Thoughts simply weren't sticking in Geralt's head.

"Me?"

"Get her . . . far." As the door gave way any lingering scent of Anima was overpower by some noxious magical slosh.

"And what? You're going to give into the madness and become one of his specimens?"

"Can't have . . . " Specimines was too large a word for Geralt's hazy mind to form. "When dead." Two hound like creatures breatched the entrance. Geralt's steel puncture one right under the chin. He might having been losing his mind but at least his muscle memory was learning to match his enhanced ability. The second hound galloped head first into the swamp. Geralt ran equally senselessly into the estate. There waiting for them were the Scoia.

"Mayrtrs . . . idiots. They're going to get me killed the both of them." Jaskier followed, he had no other choice.

"Third . . ." Geralt was indeed giving into the madness. Getting lost in the blood and the battle. "Third floor." Her scent still pulled at whatever humanity was left in him. That humanity was disapearing right infront of Jaskier's eyes.

A witcher's life is cruely long. Years pass, aquaninces age and die, kingdoms rise and fall and Witchers just are. Existing almost removed from time. Whatever the druid had done, removed that cruelty. Geralt couldn't remember that past, was not thinking of the future. Time was a human construct that in curing him of his humanity he had been stripped of. This was not a silver lining though. The Geralt Jaskier looked up to would have taken the time to ponder what had brought the the scoia to the desperate point of kidnapping mutants for the mad man. Tried to convince the inteligent beings to weigh out the atrocities they were committing. This creature Geralt was becoming showed no attempt at reasoning and compassion. The bard cringed as he watched Geralt bash a halflings skull into the stone walls without hesitation.

"Gotta find a cure to this . . . cure." Jaskier the plucky sidekick now had to save the girl and the hero and he had no time to waste. "Don't fall for a barmaid. Was that too much to ask?!" He whined as mud slicked boots bolted up the stairs. Luckily the only resistance he met on the third floor was an asault on his ears. From every locked door he pulled on he was greated with haunting screams of anguish. "Sorry. Terribly sorry. Fuck." Door after door brought him no closer to his goal. "Anima? Please, Anima. Geralt can't hold on much longer!" Jaskier's eyes were scanning the floor, pleading the gods for the girl to pop out of thin air. That didn't happen, but his pleading did produce results.

"Hope? Hope and fear" A familiar voice with an awkward thoughtful tone hit his desperate ears.

"Quiet." The druid tried to silence her but it was too late. Jaskier had found the door they were hiding behind and was banging on it with both fists, an ocasional foot and one time by accident his head.

"Ow . . . Ok new plan." He rubbed at the growing bump on his nogin. "You said it yourself. He'll kill every living thing. From one living soul to another you don't want to die do you?" There was an exhaustion to his voice Jaskier was not used to all this heavy lifting. Perhaps that's why he didn't immediately notice the click of an unlocking door. " That worked?" Upon realization he whipped it open. Sitting on the bed infront of him, dressed in the oversized druid robes was a vacent eyed Anima, her head bobbing to a song no one but her could hear. "Come on Anima we have to go." He should have been alarmed, by the lack of snide response when he grabbed Anima's wrist to drag her out, or by the severe lack of the druid himself but he was simply tapped of alarm.

It was only as they hit the middle of the stair well that it became clear things had gone from worse to terminal. The first thing he noticed was Geralt. He was a demon wrapped in human flesh, hair soaked pink with blood, teeth gleaming in a animalistic snarl. More alarming than the demonic pressence was just how broken he appeared to be. That loss of time took with it any sense of self preservation. From each burst knuckle to an elbow that was bent is all the wrong ways to the freah blood pooling and dripping from all corners of his mouth, he was torn. "Geralt I found her. Come on we've got to get you out of here!" Watching Geralt stumble into another charge at the leader of the Scoia it was aparent he had given up on parrying altogether. While his sword was deflected he used momentum to allow him to barrel a fist into his opponent's gut, leaving his neck bare to a slice from a dagger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> monster chapter chopped into more funsized bits.


	5. Lost time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is the only sane one in the bunch

The blade nicked but Geralt was godly fast, moving enough to not have his jugular sliced. He hadn't moved to evade, he moved to punch again. "Oomph!" Anma grabbed at her belly button, sucking in air as if all the wind had been knocked from her, crumbling down to a knee.

"Shit." Jaskier's eyes sprang from Geralt to Anima then over to Isengrim the elf who was straightening himself as if he had just woken from a quality night's rest. "Anima stop it! He's not on our side." He shook the girl whose body clenched in pain but her eyes seemed unaffected, lost in a day dream. "Damnit. Geralt?!" He went from screaming at one deaf martyr to another. "You have to stop. They're linked. If you strike him you're only-" But his human pleas were lost on the injured wolf who started another charge.

Isengrim with Anima's pain free boost was agile enough to turn back a downward strike at his head. Geralt raised his arms again but was shook from his blitz as a boot hit him in the eye. _'Fight, survive, live, kill.'_ Urges were all that sloshed within Geralt's head as he glanced up with his good eye at the one shoed bard. Forgetting his current duel Geralt half ran half slithered up the stairwell. Grabbing Jaskier by the throat he hoisted the smaller man into wall. A sound, most fittingly a cord, as Jaskier's lute case connected with stone, jostling the instrument shook something lose in Geralt, his grip while still firm had stopped closing harder on Jaskier's windpipe.

"If you kill her. . . us . . . you'll-" He was dropped to the floor with convincing dismissal.

"Her." The predator stepped past the crumpled bard, looming over Anima. Knees to her chest she hadn't even bothered to look up at Jaskier's atempt to save her. "This is all . . .her." Geralt pulled her up, bringing her face inches from his own. Eyes almost touching but still they couldn't see each other. He could smell her though, a scent he remembered, a scent that sparked a different primal urge within him.

In what to any sane individual would have been the most uncomfortable postioning imaginable Geralt was prone atop Anima. Greedily breathing in her scent as if he could vaccum in every last trace of it. His hands pawled at her robe and he ground against her with all his weight and length as if he would mount her right then and there.

"Lust." Anima blurted, wining the unanounced state the obvious contest.

"This is how the infamous white wolf dies." Isengrim given all the time in the world to get the high ground plunged his sword downward but before it could connect with Geralt's back the witcher snapped from his sex craze and lept up, grabbing the blade between his hands, turning it and thrusting it clean through Isengrim's flesh and guts. The elf felt none of it, Anima had all the searing pain to herself. Her panting and guteral groans only paused to vacantly utter another one word statement.

"Worry." Her eyes again couldn't be bothered to watch her protection. She barely registered being lifted from the stairs. "Loss." She felt herself nestled against leather slick with blood as she grew dizzy.

"Anima?" It was Geralt's voice, tired and struggling to break through. "Just . . . please." It was her turn, to muster up all her willpower against the thick fog of magic chaining them. Her first conscious action in weeks was not a feet of strength or a surge of courage it was a small gesture. Her palm reached up to Geralt's face.

"Calm." She cooed. "You'll go mad if you don't stay calm, think good thoughts." Almost breathing the emotion into his chest, it fought against all the 'cure' that plagued him. Half of this or more depending on your cynicism could be chalked up to Anima's mutated ability, but it could not be ignored that the ease Geralt felt in his broken bones that was something uninfluenced by worldly magic.

They moved from the stairwell with the elf fast on their heels. He was unmared by pain and Geralt very much had his hands full. "Anima." Geralt had to get out of this building, while her touch was calmimg him it was also making him woefuly aware of all of the damge he had taken. "I need you to let him go."

"But I was told . . . Brother H-"

"Fuck him!" Jaskier chimed running ahead of Geralt and Anima to open the door. "He left you at the first sign of trouble."

"Left?"

"Left. Gone! Left you here to die!" Jaskier continued, tripping as soon as a shoeless foot stuck in mud.

"I . . . tried . . . to do everything right. It will be loud again."

"Anima" Geralt tried to hold the attention of her glossy eyed gaze. "Did you let him go? I don't want to hurt you." The only response he got was a quizical turn of her head, almost asking why. He was still angry, still was fighting the curing qualities of the swamp it took all his restraint not to shake an answer out of her. Instead as he placed her down behind a tree, he rested his head against the bark to catch some well deserved breaths. "I need you to trust me. I'll fix whatever he did. I'll do whatever it takes for it not to be . . . loud." Though he wasn't quite clear what she meant by that. "Just please trust me. Let the elf go." Lifting his head he saw her studying him, pondering an unsure question.

"Fine Worry, I'll let him go." Her pain knitt face smothed over. Geralt didn't kill him, perhaps because he had gotten his fill of death on his hands or perhaps because he didn't trust Anima's word but he did make sure by the time he returned to their tree he wouldn't follow.

"Can you walk?" Geralt would carry her as far as his legs would carry but as blood continued to pour from new and old injuries he wasn't sure how far that would be.

"I didn't break all my bones." It lacked her sarcastic bite but there was a tone of humor as she stood. "Worry I can . . . if it hurts-" She reached out to touch him but he recoiled three paces back.

"Don't." Geralt warned sternly.

"You don't remember what happened last time?" Jaskier was splaid out in the mud, completely spent.

"No." Her answer caused Jaskier's head to snap up.

"What? Wait . . . what's my name?" It just came to mind that Anima hadn't called either of him or Geralt by name nor title since their reunion.

"I . . .which way are we going?" She was not so subtley avoiding the question.

"Anima what's the last thing you remember?" Jaskier was now fully sitting up. _'Amnesia . . . why the fuck not.'_

"You asking me what your name was." Again with avoidance. When she could tell this was annoying the bard she shrugged. "It's fuzzy . . . It'll come back to me I'm sure." She hoped that Jaskier would relent and smile but his scowl only deepend.

"Geralt how's your memory? You remember me right?"

"Despite my best efforts." Geralt groaned. "My head is . . . still off." He could still feel it, the anger, the lust, the poor grasps at time. Anima had been here for months it made sense that the side effects were far worse in her case.

"Anima do you remember Thill?" Jaskier seemed to be taking this far more seriously than Geralt.

"Thill?" There was a flicker of recognition but as soon it was there it was gone.

"Your best friend?"

"A best friend? And I can't remember them?" Anima's eyes clenched shut, her mind grapsing fruitlessly at something just out of her reach.

"Lets get out of the swamp. There's an Inn nearby ok?" Geralt placed a hand on Anima's shoulder, shaking her concentration for good.

The walk to Roach was silent, outside of Jaskier's manly screams of terror when his exposed foot hit something a bit too slimy. The awkward silence continued all the way to the Inn. "One room two beds Or two rooms?" The Owner seemed extra keen to acomidate any request the Witcher drenched in blood had for him.

"Anima?" Geralt with slightly more patience growing in him, waited till he was sure she was listening. "Do you want your own room?"

"Oh I see the two of you-" The Inn owner pointed between Geralt and Jaskier. "None of my business." He concluded.

"Hmm" Geralt had renewed patience, not an abundance. "Anima?"

"You're not so loud. I don't . . . don't think I like being alone." She tried to confirm her preference, tried to remember, but nothing was there.

The silence resumed, broken only by Geralt's grunts as he shifted bones to their correct positions. "You can't ignore this forever Geralt. The girl's soft boiled. What are we going to do about this?" Jaskier's voice was hushed enough but there was no hiding from Anima's inner ear.

"You're angry." Anima stated from her position on the edge of her bed. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Stop doing that." Jaskier did not enjoy his new position as the voice of reason. "And that! She can't turn it off I thought she could only attach to one person at a time. She's three knuckles deep in Roach's emotional bits."

"Can't read animals." Anima scoffed as if Jaskier's acusation was the most absurd turn of events this day had birthed.

"I was being . . . Geralt? Some help here?"

"Jaskier go get some ale from Inn. Stop in town first. Get some new boots." Geralt pointed to his bags to infer the price was on him.

"I . . .Fine. Atleast tell me you have a plan?"

"Staying calm." Geralt's unalarmed demeanor had been intentional. He had deduced that much like his strength and agression Anima's mutated empath abilty had it's limits and control rubbed from her in equal parts. She was stronger, but it was tearing at her sanity. The best he could do is make as small emotional movements as possible so as not to add to the loud that was bothering her so. Jaskier had no such capacitiy, he wasn't reserved or stoic, his dramtic nature was not a show, it truely was his temprament.

"Staying calm he says." Jaakier grabbed Geralt's coin. "Ignoring the problem is what you're doing." He slammed the door behind him.

"Anima get some rest." Geralt found a space against the wall to rest his head. Jaskier could have the bed, he had earned it.

"I can help you." Anima stood over the closed eyed Witcher.

"He's wrong about a lot of things but he was right about that." One eye struggled open. The bard had earned the bed but the Witcher had more than earned some rest. "Last time you took my pain you nearly died."

"Not that. The other thing you're feeling. The lust." If her statement didn't fully awaken him a butterfly kiss on his forehead jolted him alive. He gripped her shoulders, clenching tight to get his barings before speaking.

"No." He felt a dull pain in his gut. The anger and lust had been waning at a glaciar's pace and the mere suggestion of release caused his body to start devouring itself from the inside. He could want release all he liked but as Jaskier had repeated over and over, in her current state she was a few loaves short of a baker's dozen. Taking her up on her offer would be as deviant as whatever the druid had put her through in the swamp. "Did he . . . the druid . . ." All that waning had been for naught as the anger rose inside him.

"Were we lovers? You and I?" She didn't want to answer that question. She didn't want to think of the man in the swamp and she didn't want Geralt to feel so much rage.

"No." Geralt released her, standing up and stepping away needing precious space from her exploring.

"Jaskier then?"

"No!" He knew if she couldn't hear it she could feel it. His protective teetering on territorial attachment to her.

"Then why did you come for me? How do you know me?"

"You're a barmaid at an Inn in Lyria that we frequent. I . . . I'm just a customer that's all. Anima please just get some-"

"You want to be more." She was relentless, dodging all questions that didn't suit her before berraging him with ones of her own.

"No." Geralt sighed trying to regain to control.

"You can't lie to me. I can tell what you're feeling."

"That's only half of it Anima. You're going to remember that soon enough." He tried to convince the both of them that she would not be stuck with the cadence and curiosity of a child forever.

"Half?"

"There's what you feel and what you think. If you do whatever just feels right without thinking of concequences. Of how it will effect others . . . How I was in the swamp. The villan the druid became, feelings and urges aren't everything." It brought him some peace that is seemed Anima was taking the words in, dissecting them carefully. His speech seemed to pay dividens as he saw a smile, reminisant from those in Lyria creep across her face.

"You must think highly of my services. A customer going through all this for a barmaid?" This wasn't a probative question, she was relenting, reasoning as she went back to her bed.

"I actually. . . " Rumaging through his pack till he hit the hide wrapped object. "I had come to Lyria to bring you this." He placed it in her lap. He hadn't meant to dismiss her as a simple prostitute but he knew she would not comprehend the subtle relationship they had previously shared.

 _'Think Anima'_ She felt a new emotion come from Geralt. It wasn't anger or lust, not even worry, it was closer to hope. He was expecting something from her reaction to this gift. "Jam." She ran her hand across the glass bottle.

"It's winter cherry."

"I very much wanted to try it didn't I?" She did remember her cell, carved with fruit names, winter cherry had been underlined with deep gashes.

"Go on." The hope was growing. Popping the cork she stuck a finger in the sticky perserve, putting it to her lips her whole face puckered.

"It's sour." She laughed, more so she felt happy, more over than that she felt a muted joy in the witcher. Placing the jar on the floor with care she stood again, hugging Geralt, careful not to squeeze tight at broken ribs. "Thank you Geralt." She felt his head bow atop hers at the use of his name, a small victory.

' _Anything Anima.'_ For small moments like this, he'd pick the continent bare, kill every vampire in Lyria. He didn't know why, it spat right in the face of his monologue. Despite that, he was the thought and she was the feeling and he would do anything to keep that.


	6. Time to relax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night on the town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may be a bit longer till the next chapter. This story's kind of balloned on me and I'm not sure where I'd like to go with it or if I should start concluding it.

"Jaskier? What makes Geralt happy?" Anima had been equally hooked. That fleeting feeling of joy she had sensed in him had left her yearning for more, for any and all of it. She had a hunch she would not get any suitable answers from the Witcher himself. She figured instead trailing behind while traveling towards the next town, she could pick the brain of his companion.

"That's easy. Nothing, but that's his charm. He's most the most miserable sod you've ever met but that doesn't stop his magnetic draw to man woman and beast alike. Do you think if I practiced my scowl I'd have the same . . . " Jaskier stopped when he finally realized what he was word vomiting across the trail. " I mean not to trivialize what you two have . . . that's different."

"It's alright Jaskier I know what I was . . . am. I know that there are other bairmaids out there. He already told me he's a . . . customer." She would be lying if she said she was satisfied with that position but for now it was better than nothing.

"Anima remember when I said nothing makes Geralt happy?"

"You mean half a minute ago? My memory's not that bad."

"Miserable sod that he is, when we head to Lyria for whatever excuse he uses to see you. He almost seems happy . . . less annoyed? That's more it."

"Sounds like he enjoys the idea of me more than he actually likes me."

"Don't act all high and mighty. You play cat and mouse right along with him when he shows up."

"Maybe I liked the idea of him more than I liked him." She shrugged having no memories for reference.

"You're getting off track. I didn't see him do that with . . . Geralt?! what was the name of the barmaid in Aedrin?" Jaskier was trying to make a point. Geralt a good clip ahead of them had been doing his best to ignore the fact that his name kept catching his ear. Turning to Jaskier he scrunched his brow wondering the purpose of this question. He was more focused on getting to the next town, he did need to see a proper healer, bones he could set himself they would hurt regardless but something inside wasn't healing right.

"Sera." He turned back, figuring whatever they were chatting about was surely something he wanted no part of and questioning it would just waste time.

"Stuck between a mood ring and an encyclopedia. You two are frustratingly practical." Jaskier sighed at an answer he had not wanted. "Point is I doubt he would have charged half way cross the continent and nearly gone mad searching for Sera."

"I think you're both wrong." Anima shook her head.

"Both? Was her name not Sera? Were you there?"

"I think he cares more than either of you give him credit for. Not just for helpless maids or aspiring bards. He's lived long enough to know that caring's a fools game but it's a hard vice to quit. I think I . . ." A grasp on a memory was replaced by an unerving sense.

"We're not alone." She whispered.

"I know."

"How'd you know?" Anima still couldn't see them only sense desperation and anger.

"Roach stopped. I think he's going to have a chat with them, explain how much he cares." Jaskier pointed ahead at Geralt who was waiting, a thumb primed at the gaurd of his sword.

"He's in no shape for this." Anima sped up to close the gap. She could feel the hurt he was trying to shrug off.

"You're not wrong but Geralt rarely gets time to heal up. You get used to it." Jaskier followed behind. "What choice does he have?"

"We don't want trouble. We're just passing through." Geralt welcomed the bandits out of hiding.

"Then just hand over you wares and we'll let you and your caravan through Witcher." On cue a gang of five crept out of the brush.

"No."

"What's that?"

"He said no." Anima had caught up. Handing her sole possession, that winter cherry jam over to Jaskier she passed the Witcher, getting dangerously closer to the head goon.

"Going to have your wench fight your battles are you Witcher?"

"Anima." He placed a protective hand on her shoulder but she rolled out from under it, stepping closer still.

"You don't know who I am do you?" It was there, full and emboldened, a trademark Anima smirk.

"Should I now?" The oaf chuckled unimpressed.

"Formalities are trivial I guess. All you need to know is I can make a grown man weep without even touching him. You're not worth the Witcher's time." This was a bluff more than anything but hell if she didn't ooze the confidence to back it up.

"That S-" Then it hit him. An unfathomable sorrow swallowed him like an uruely tide. Hot flowing tears breached the shores of his eyes, body ebbing and flowing with sobs.

"Dain?" Once surprise subsided the second in command finally called out to him. "What the fuck did you do to him? What are you?"

"All the wrong questions." Her tone was icy but her dove feathered eyes were smoldering, snapping from Dain to his mate. "You should be asking what do I need to do to keep it from happening to me?" Sorrow broke and unbridled terror guted the man in her scope. "Right?" Her question was mockingly soft. "Tell me. What will you do to save yourself?"

"Leave off! Just . . ." A pouch of coin was chucked directly at Anima's face but her stare did not break. "Break your curse on us witch!"

"Only way for you to break it. Is to out run it." She stood her ground unflinching. "Well?! Go!" She shouted them into retreat, tripping over their heels as they attempted to lose Anima's entrapment.

Once she could only barely sense them did she turn to her companions, a cocky grin on her face. "Frustratingly practical has it's upsides." She took her Jam from Jaskier who winced away from her touch.

"That was . . . intense."

"Can't let you two do all the saving." She ignored the twinge of bother at Jaskier's recoil. As if nothing had happened she began making her way up the trail, a new found skip to her step.

"Well saving might be p-" It wasn't exactly like she had worked up much a sweat.

"Are you not alive and have all your things?"

"Yes but-"

"And did it not seem like they wished us harm and or to nick us of all our things?"

"It wasn't-"

"You're welcome bard." The skip grew heavier in each step.

"Well she's nearly all back." Jaskier glanced over at Geralt for his opinion on what had just transpired.

"Hmm." The Witcher was busy remounting Roach. He had underestimated Anima's ability, he could now truly grasp what a weapon she could be if she so chose.

"Do you think she's not remembering on purpose?"

"I don't think it works like that Jaskier." He began to trot, his eyes stuck on her. She did seem lighter, less burdened, it no doubt did have something do with her lack of tragic backstory and self imposed responsibilities waiting for her in Lyria. "She'll remember once she sees Thill. Purpose or not."

"Caring's a hard vice to give up." Jaskier nodded thoughtfully.

"What?"

"Well until then-" Jaskier scooped up the coin the bandit had thrown and tossed it up to Geralt. "Maybe it'd be good to make some new memories. Wine and dine her, see if you like more than just the thought of her." A hero a wingman, was there no feather Jaskier would not put in his cap?

"Leaving you two alone was a mistake." Geralt grumbled the notion away.

"Come on what's the worst that could happen? If it's your conversational skills your worried about. I'll write some talking points for you don't fret."

"Jaskier this isn't a holiday." Geralt dismissed the bard a second time. To him both sides of the coin were unfavorable. If he spent time bonding with her and it didn't live up to expectations all those moments he cherished so much would have a taint to them he'd never be able to wash. If it went well, if he truly allowed himself to simply enjoy her company he would want more, need to see her more often than twice a year. That was impractical to say the least, there was no such thing as a house witcher.

"Fine. If you won't I will."

"Hmm." It was a trap, plain as day he was being goaded but all the same Jaskier's threat boiled Geralt's blood.

"Shown her a good time before I can do it again. Anima?!"

"Jaskier!" He had gone too far, Geralt's ears were growing red, steam all but whistling out of them.

"Yes?" Anima had paused long before hearing her name. Anger might have been branded cross Geralt's forehead, but that was a smokescreen. What had stopped her dead in her tracks was the crippling levels of envy radiating off him.

"These last few days have been stressful. It'd do us good to unwind. You haven't seen me perform before have you?"

"I don't know." She shrugged.

"Well you're in for a treat. We'll have to get you a change of clothes first. I can't be seen with a homeless woman in my enterouge." It was in short order that Jaskier had a chummy arm round her shoulder.

"So sorry I didn't keep my apperances up while being tourtured by a mad man in a swamp." She replied flatly, peering over her shoulder the envy was gone, or rather burried. A day earlier she would have pried and prodded but she had regained her tact and understood not all emotions were for public knowledge. While she could, it wasn't her choice to unpack them.

"Noted. One other stipulation, it's expected that you applaud after each of my masterpieces. Singing, dancing, Ale. You need to experience the otherside of the bar before we get you back home."

"Is Geralt not coming?" She would allow herself to get swept up in Jaskier's fantasy, it warmed her to see a friendly smile, but she could not ignore the wall she felt building betwen her and the Witcher.

"Let him stew for a bit Anima. He'll find a dark corner that suits him when he comes around."

It had been a kidney that was ailing him. Geralt had finally seen a legitamet healer. One who had been all to gidy to prescribe strong experimental potions and salves to the all but unkillable witcher for the organ that had been bleeding untreated for days. The sickly taste of corsely ground herbs held not nearly as bitter a note as the healer's words that lingered with Geralt as he walked out into the town's street. "It's not often you see a Witcher. Let alone a Witcher with company." They had left him at the door, Anima with slight more hesitancy than Jaskier, to find her some clothes. A small part of him wondered. Why not? Could he just take Anima with them? Leave Anima's memories unsalvaged. He had kept Jaskier alive all these years, and Anima could more than handle herself.

The wonder only branched as he entered the Inn, watching her twirl to a jaunty tune, her face flush in a slightly pickled smile. Was this a life she would have wanted? An ordinary life? If her blood had not been mutated, if she had not been shuned from society? Only finding family in the fringe. All her abilities and loyalty undyingly tied to those who could accept her despite all that made her unnatural. They could leave in the night, let her have the life that had been stolen from her. "Geralt!" Her face collided squarely into chest, nuzzling as her cheek was hunting for the perfect resting place.

"Having fun are we?" He felt her pause to nod before resuming her search. An arm eventually wrapped around her waist, to stabilize her more than anything, between the drinks and the dancing her balance when it came to standing in one place left much to be desired. "What are you doing?" As he did his best to hold her in place he noticed her footing became more uneven as she perched on tip toes.

"Shhh I'm listening." It was his heartbeak she was seeking out and with the guidence of his free hand and a sigh of slight annoyance he guided her there.

All at once it came back to her, in sharp brutal flashes. Lying in bed with Geralt, stealing his heartbeat, Thill nursing her back to health, the Inn, the men, the tooth ache, Jam day, calming Thill during thunderstorms when they were younger, The storm she escaped from which brought her to Lyria in the first place, the pain of glass in her blood it all came back. Her eyes shot up at Geralt with all the emotions she had ever felt, mastered, controlled. She pushed herself off of him and ran ghost faced from the tavern.

He had let himself get disillusioned, cocky like the druid he had thoughy he could undo what had been done. Much as the memories hit Anima, reality brought Geralt down to earth. "She a monster Witcher? Sucubus?" A patron who had witnessed their interaction piped up. "Should've known from the eyes." He jostled a friend. "Can't hide those eh? Pretending to be human. Sad really."

"Hmm" Geralt left to find her, it wouldn't take much she had only made it a few steps outdoors before quite literally emptying her guts.

She felt her hair being pulled behind her ears, a large hand making soothing circles along her back. After another few painful sounding hurls she wiped her mouth breathed in some much needed fresh air and straightened herself up. Her face had gone from red to white to a sickly green but she managaged half a smile when their eyes met again. "Perhaps too much fun" She chuckled horsely. _'If you ask me if I'm ok I swear I'll kill the both of us.'_ She very much did not want to talk about it. She couldn't surpress it again, but that didn't mean she wanted to pick through memories with a fine tooth comb.

"Come on. You're empty now, you need some food in you."

"Nmm mhhh" She swallowed hard before speaking again. "I think I'll just go back to the room for the night."

"You'll just get sick if you lay down." He had played nurse maid to Jaskier enough to know better. "Humor me? Just some bread to settle your-"

"Alright Alright mother I'll go." She figured he had been more than patient with her these last few days. If choking down some bread would ease his worry she could oblidge.

They sat outside the shop after Anima found the smallest loaf of bread available for purchase. As she tore and nibbled down crumbs, silence seeped at them from every angle. "Better?" He felt Anima's head rest on his shoulder, any negativity associated with the silence melted away. He placed a hand on her knee, running a thub across it's cap. This was nice, it was enough.

"I don't think I can go back Geralt." She spoke through a mouthful as her appitie returned. "He could come back. Or someone like him. I'd be putting them in danger." Having all the answers to her past had just sprouted new questions. Geralt didn't speak right away. He knew this conundrum, knew that there was no positive outcome, it was one he had groomed himself to avoid over the years. Knowing that people who could accept a mutant, even call them friend or kin were few and far between. While every part of you that seeks comfort would want to hold onto them and never let go there's a truth you can't escape. Your mere presence means that they will always be in more danger than they would otherwise.

"Well I have to take you back Anima. I've got a bounty on my head in Lyria thanks to you. Thom and Thill are convinced I've set out to kill you." He began his best push to split the difference.

"You could have Geralt." Anima had deduceed quicker than most that whatever the Scoai had planned to do with her power would go double for the Witcher. The White Wolf's ability under any other reigns would surely lead to a blood bath. She also was aware much like Geralt, it was all but myth to cure a mutation, so it'd likely be his hands to be soaked. He felt his hand clench at the knee it was resting on but he did not dignify her claim with a response.

"After that if you feel the need to leave to protect your friends. That's up to you."

"Once I see them. I won't want to leave." Anima could already feel the churn of homesickness.

"You won't want to but you'll do it. If you think you can keep them safe by leaving you will." He spoke from experience.

"Like you have with Jaskier?" Her head gave a little bump against his shoulder.

"He's not my friend. And I leave him all the time, he just has a habbit of finding me." He didn't feel the need to add to Anima's struggle in stating that he thought Thill to be cut of a similar cloth.

"Should we go back? We did just run out on him?"

"I doubt he's noticed." Geralt's mind drifted to the budding monster hunter who thought Anima a succubus. "I don't sing, nor do I dance. You've regained your color, if I'm company enough, I'll drink with you back in the room till you have your fill of a good time."

It may not have been the wine and dine that Jaskier had pictured but it was not the double edged sword that Geralt had dreaded. Drinking alone sitting on Anima's bed, neither of them in mortal danger, it was as close to effortless peace as either if them had felt in ages. "Vizima?" She was running out of prospective places to go if she did decide to leave Lyria.

"No." He shook his head for what had to be the hundredth time.

"No? And why not?" Anima let out half a laugh half a sigh.

"Cockatrice . . . crawling out the sewers."

"Cockatrice?" She laughed again. "Now you're just making words up." She was convinced half the beasts he had listed were nonsense. If it wasn't Cockatice in Vizima it was Zegul in Gyneval or Banshees in Toussaint. Though asking for travel advice from a witcher it wasn't clear what else one could expect.

"I swear, peck right at your ank-" He paused to let out a groan of pain.

"Alright that's the third grumble in under an hour. Come on lets see what that quack did to you." She pulled at the edge of his armor.

"Anima I'm-"

"Off." He wasn't sure if it was the ale but he felt little will to deny her and with a slight wince he disrobed till above his waist he was bare to the bandages. She laughed again. "Did he slather you in Jam?" Bleeding through edges of cloth was some viscous purple substance.

"You have a one track mind sometimes."

"It does give a girl ideas. Though-" A palm grazed across his chest. "Hair and fruit isn't the most appealing combo. Quite vile really." It didn't all have to be doom and gloom, angst to the rafters. They could smile, laugh, there was a break to despair when they were left to their own devices.

"Vile?" Testing the memory of his touch he reached out, fingers finding a spot on Anima that he remembered to be ticklish.

"Terribly vile!" She let out a shrill laugh. Before her mouth could close he had captured it in his own. "Geralt your injuries." It was a moot protest as she felt her dress begin to rise past her hips. Her fingers laced behind his neck encouraging a deeper kiss. Hands and clothes splayed everywhere. Any bother his injuries had caused him were eclipsed by the pleasure of being nestled inside of her. When he thought his senses had maxed out he was surprised as her nails dug deep into his back. It was a sensation he had not felt before. Vision blurred as an abnormal surge of ecstasy pumped through his veins. Harder, faster, deeper it wasn't ever going to be enough to satiate this hunger. Almost as animalistic as on the stairwell in the swamp he pulled her hips closer to him, swallowing her scent, her pants all of her until he engulfed her and they were spent. It was only as he crumpled next to her that he noticed, his heartbeat would not quiet, wasn't resting slow as it should.

"Anima!"

"Tears isn't the only thing I can bring one to." She released him. It was still painfull to take on a Withcer's heartrate, still left her body weakend, but she was getting better at it each time.

"That's not safe."

"Not safe or not fair? Acording to you not a square inch of this continet is safe. As I now clearly recall you didn't play fair last time." She used the old druid's clothes in the corner to wipe them clean before nestling in against his chest, listening as always to his heartbeat.

"Come find me."

"What?"

"If you chose to leave Lyria come find me." He couldn't undo what was done. He couldn't promise to keep her safe, but he could make sure she wasn't alone.


	7. The times are changing

As promised they returned Anima to Lyria. To a heros welcome. Any Ill will Thom held for the Witcher washed away the second he laid eyes on his lost girl. If Geralt had asked for room and board for life upon their arrivial it very well might have be granted. Alas the rest of the world needed Geralt of Rivia, they could not stay.

The world needed him badly. The continent was in war and chaos again. A year had passed before his moral compass weighed all his saving of humanity had earned him a piece of his own. He had shaken Jaskier a few months back. This would be time just for themselves, except it wasn't, except yet again Anima was not at the Inn. Had she left to keep her friends safe? Had she been kidnapped again? It was something far more mundane.

"The proffesion's a young girls game I suppose." Thom began to answer Geralt's question as to where she was.

"You fired them for aging?" It hadn't just been Anima who was missing, Thill was also absent.

"Witcher don't insult me. You know I love my girls more like they were my own. They always have a home here."

"I . . . sorry." Geralt did know better but he was frustrated and fatigued, he had not accounted for this disappointment.

"They saved up enough to move out to the city proper. Thill's became quite the social butterfly, going to all these swanky galas and balls. Anima's trying all sorts of things. I think she's apprenticed half the tradesmen in the kingdom. She's been invited on a second hunt with the knights up on-"

"You didn't tell me that!" Janis interrupted her husband's fatherly boasting.

"We didn't want to worry you."

"She's not a knight Thom. You saw her train in the fields with Orwen."

"Did have the footing of a calfling. So she can't weild a sword like a-"

"I don't know why she can't just go along with Thill. Find someone to settle the wild in her just a little. I blame you Witcher."

"Me?" Geralt had hoped to get through this marital spat unnoticed.

"She's going to compare all suitors to you and they ain't going to measure up. You have no intention of settling with her. So she's filling the space with this nonsense. Silly hunts. . . You know she went with Sadon brothers to test their glider?"

"Didn't they hike three days up a mountian to realize they left the thing at home?" Thom hadn't heard this story in full.

"Three days up, three days down. Surprised she didn't throw em off the cliff side. Scientific minds my ass. I know she'll never be a socialite but she shouldn't be wasting her life chasing a fantasy." Janis let out a concerned sigh.

"Is she on the hunt now?" Janis' words had deflated Geralt fully. He never expected Anima to wait for him. He was sure she didn't intend to but he had wanted to give her an option to not be alone, not cut off all other viable options.

"No I told her Janis was under the weather and to stay around for a few weeks." Thom admitted his white lie. "They always come over for breakfast on the month's last Sunday. If you stay till then, you should see her." Thom wasn't convinced by Janis' portrayal of Anima as a war time bride left hoping for her knight to return. She wasn't waiting on Geralt, or searching for a man. She had spent her whole life catering to the needs of others and was struggling to find something to call her own. He believed she was being too hard on herself and he knew seeing Geralt would atleast brighten her mood.

"I don't think that's wise." Geralt felt more out of place in the Inn than he had when Thom threw him out. This was no place for him, and neither was meddling in Anima's life. She had a chance to start fresh and his pressence always tended to muddy her waters.

 _'So you're just going to avoid the issue?'_ He could hear his inner bard complian.

"I'll speak to her."

Geralt didn't go to further into Lyria, he did not speak to Anima. Infact he traveld two kingdoms over, and three or so months of monster hunting by the time he had nothing else to distract his mind. What had truly changed? She was no longer a barmaid at the Inn, not much else. There was a worry inside him that with the whole world opened to her there wasn't a need or a place for a Witcher. Given time she would fully close that chapter in her life and move on. As she should. It had happened before, avoid attatchment as he did it would happen again. She would be able to dance and drink and buy exotic jams from across the continent. What could he provide to her except peril?

"For a wanted man you sure are hard to find." A familiar voice inturupted his brooding.

"Not now Jaskier."

"Wanted? For what? By who? All great questions."

"I didn't ask."

"You're not curious why the trade council of Lyria is looking for you? Not just any Witcher. You?"

"Trade council?" He had helped farmers when their fields had sprouted Echinops. Inn owners when a few too many of their clients have gone missing but rarely a council of business men.

"That was my first thought. My second thought was how had Geralt of Rivia and needed in Lyria been put together in the same sentence and you were not already at our old stomping ground. So I stop by and what do I hear-"

"Jaskier. It's been minutes, can you not use every word at your disposal and get to the point?" Geralt was preemptively annoyed, knowing whatever point Jaskier was sauntering around Geralt would prefer not to entangle himself in.

"Inn mother sent you tail between your legs. Normally a man would be excited to hear his sweetheart had hung up her all comers welcome sign." Again Jaskier was goading the Witcher, again he had gone a hair too far.

"Jaskier! What do you want?!"

"I want us to do whatever heroing is needed by those well pocketed merchants. Then I want you to find your balls and talk to Anima." Jaskier did not back down this time.

"Hmmm." He was the thought, she was the feeling. He didn't want to sort through emotions and talk about his concerns. That wasn't what a Witcher was built for. "We." He let out a snort. "Good to see you still have your humor about you." Geralt turned at Roach's reigns. He could at least rationalize going to investigating what was ailing the tradesmen of Lyria. What he would do beyond that was an issue he'd push off till later. Or so he thought.

As they went further into town, he could smell her. Starved for her, it overpowered his senses, he could tell she traveled these roads frequently. He found his mind wandering to her, wanting her. The previous images of Anima living a new happy life without him clawed at the base of his brain, clashing aggressively at the want. It was exactly as he had dreaded. If he saw her, he wouldn't allow things to continue as they were, he would have to make a choice. "Oi You're the Witcher everyone's looking for. White hair gotta be." A stablemen shouted Geralt from his inner conflict.

"I am. Why are they looking for me?"

"Probably heard songs of your prowess and figured no one else would do." Jaskier proposed.

"Viscount Orwen insisted. Should have stuck to the pies if you ask me." The man seemed less than pleased that the Witcher had been called for.

 _'Orwen. Why do I know that name?'_ Geralt shrugged off the notion he was on a first name basis with a Viscount and had since forgotten. "Where can we find him?"

"Tavern down the way. Spending the king's coin cocking up better plans to get the road to Riverdell greaesed up."

When they entered the tavern, Geralt could have been bowled over with a feather. She must've basically lived here. Every inch of the place reeked of her. "One White Wolf as promised." Jaskier could not allow their entrance go without fan fare.

"You brought him!" A man who could only be assumed to be Orwen nearly lept from a table over to the duo. "Here." His eyes were hyper focused on Geralt as if he didn't believe him to be real.

"You're collecting a bounty on me bard?" He watched as coin tranfered from the Viscount to Jaskier's palms.

"A meager fee for facilitating a meeting. He was insistant I do nothing but search for you. Figure it wages lost for night's I could have-"

"What do you need with ME?" Geralt quickly lost interest in Jaskier's rambling.

"Vodyanoi have seiged Rivderdell. We had sent some of ours over to discuss a more lucrative trade deal before-"

"Vodyanoi are warer dwellung creatures what are they doing this far inland?"

"I don't know. All I know is the queen's knights have been made all but fishfood for them. She refuses to send another rescue party. My wife has always spoken highly of you, and she's the greatest judge of character I know. She's told me stories of you saving her and her friend on more than one occasion and I had hoped to convince you to do it again."

"Your . . . wife?" Jaskier glanced over at Geralt, worried the statement would tip his friend either crazed or catatonic. "She uh . . . she didn't happen to live in the town down the hill . . . at an Inn-"

"She met me during a time I had ran from my noble obligations. I was working in the town as a baker. She found value in me when I chose not to."

"Anima." She was in danger again, and he would save her, again, but something had changed. As he looked at the Viscount, previosuly a baker Geralt saw almost his mirror opposite. A lanky, scar free man. Black neatly cut hair and chestnut very human eyes. He saw security, normalcy, she had made her choice.

"What?!" There was a door kicked open and sounds of hands and hips hitting walls and tables. Turning around he saw her, a pair of twins, one on each shoulder had hands over Anima's eyes.

' _Children?'_ That didn't make sense. Not because part of a normal secure life didn't involve children but it was well known mutants across the board were sterile. The time table barely matched up. How had Thom neglected to mention this to him?

"Left Ma." The toddler on her shoulder shouted.

"Right Ma." The second snapped back.

"Little createns where am I-" Tripping over a table leg Anima began to fall, but she was caught. "Geralt?" Her eyes still covered, but there was no question in her mind, she knew this hold. She tore young hands from her vision to confirm. As he helped her to her feet she shrugged off one child at a time. ' _What is he doing here?'_ Giving both children a light shove on the back, ushering them forward. "A break eh? Go to the back garden." She watched their uneasy wobbles out of eyesight. "Helena watch them for a moment?" She called out to one of the tavern's workers.

"Anima YOU'RE married to a viscount?" Jaskier could let this puzzle go unanswered no longer.

"I don't know if it'd be that shocking." Orwen was sweating, he was nervous, a fact Geralt and Anima were quick to notice.

"No that reaction fits about right. Sooner dead than bother myself with the lady nonsense Thill has to keep up with. So it seems you haven't come to give long belated well wishes to the couple. Why are you here?" Last she had heard of Geralt was from Thom and Janis. She had goten mixed messages, he had come to see her months back but once he found she no longer worked there he had left. She had concluded Geralt had put thought over feeling and a customer was all he was willing to be.

"You didn't tell her?" Geralt's face staid calm but he internally braced for the incoming storm.

"Tell me what?" Anima's glare could have melted through Orwen's skull.

"Anima you're going to be angry with me but you must understand I-"

"Riverdell's been overtaken by Vodyanoi." Geralt knew no amount of words would make this better.

"Riverdell?" The Tavern grew silent outside of the crunch of Orwn's nose under Anima's fist. "You lying black hearted sack of shite." She chased him as he retreated deeper in the room. "She's given you everything. All that you have, you owe to Thill!"

"I . . . I know." His voice was muffled by a hand holding his hemoraging nose to his face.

"And you know she's in danger and you do nothing?"

"I didn't d-"

"You didn't go after her. She went to speak with that duchess on your account and-"

"Go after her and what? Die? Orphan my children? I love Thill more than anything in the world. Go on you can tell that can't you?" Orwen was not a fighter but he would not allow anyone even Anima question his love for Thill.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Anima was seething she would not relent any moral high ground here.

"Because I knew you'd react like this. Go running after her. I don't wish to lose you either Anima."

"You'd find another nanny." Anima just as Orwen had predicted made her way to the Tavern door in a stampeed. "I'm taking your fucking horse!" The door slammed behind her.

"I thought I was protecting my family. I thought I was doing the right thing. Was I wrong?" Orwen turned to Geralt and Jaskier who Anima hadn't even acknowledged as she stormed out.

"Call yourself a viscount or a baker you're no match for Vodyanoi. Keeping it hidden from Anima and expecting any other response. You were wrong there. That's her sister. Thill's the only who she has left. The only one that needs her." Geralt vaugely remembered the feeling. The realization that while your services may be in high demand, no one cared for or needed you as a person. It dawned on him that his earlier avoidance had lumped him in the eveyone but Thill category. "Jaskier lets go." They didn't leave Orwen with any conforting words or promises of a happy ending, they simply left the man short half his family.

"Anima you need to slow down!" As Roach galloped to catch up Jaskier was reminded why he never complained that he always was stuck walking behind the mare. The bobbing on streets was one thing but as they met uneven terrain he worried he might get sick.

"What you want to wait till the Vodyanoi die of old age too?"

"We don't even know whose Vodyanoi they are." Geralt finally spoke up.

"Whose?" A mix of fresh air and leveling adrenilin brought her to a stop, brought her to her senses. It was better to work with the Witcher than against him. She was being petty and petty never saved anyone. "Fine. Enlighten me why does it matter WHOSE Vodyanoi they are?"

"If they follow the lady of the lake they can be reasoned with. If they follow Dagon they cannot. Do you know of anyone who deals in minerals or Nymph blood?"

"Nymph blood and minerals?" She was better than this, she shouldn't be as riled as she was. Shouldn't let some prospect of a fetch quest bother her, but the dread of losing Thill had her out of sorts. "I . . .uh. . . On the outskirts there's a collector of sorts." She was having a hard time simply trusting Geralt as she had before. He could see it, the frenzy, the concern, the lack of faith. In a year's time all good will had been lost.

"The goal is rescue. Not revenge." There was a darkness in Anima's gaze Geralt felt somewhat unrightfuly responsible for putting there. "Anima I-"

"It's west." She could calm down, she could be reasonable, emotional control was her whole deal but she came to the concious decision she didn't want to.

"You want how much for it?!" Jaskier's ears nearly wept at the sound of the recluse's request.

"Well it's not as if nymph blood flows from springs." While the hermit had been all too excited to show off his collection to visitors, he seemed far less eager to part with what they were after.

"We don't have time for this." Anima crossed her arms, sizing up the mouse of a man. "Fredrick?" For the first time all afternoon her voice lost it's prickly underbite. Geralt knew this tone, it was satericly soft.

"Yes?" She made him nervous, which made him an easy target.

"When was the last time you've had . . . company?"

"Well . . . Wow." Jaskier half exclaimed half cringed, this day was not looking up.

"Company?" Socialy awkward as Fredrick may have been, her question did not come off as subtle even to him.

"Anima." Geralt wasn't sure if she was doing this to annoy him or if she truely was this desperate to find Thill, he chalked it up to equal measure.

"While I'm sure your company would be . . . time well spent." Words struggled past a dry mouth. "I am a consour of . . . of more tangible things and I can't-"

"I can see that, and I can understand that with such a fine eye for rareties how you could be skeptical that I would compare."

"Anima stop." The primal territorial urge that acompanied the thought of Anima with another man always took a toll on Geralt's civility. He places himself between her and Fredrick's now oggling eyes. Anima did not take heed or care of Geralt's disposition and continued, gliding past his imposed wall.

"So that's why I propose you give me a tour of your chambers first and if you don't find your experience worth every ducket we'll leave empty handed."

"Are you out of your mind?" Jaskier could appreciate unmerited confidence but this was ridiculous.

"Fredrick would you mind if we take a moment?" Geralt went to grab Anima by the shoulders to step outside but stopped as they all quizicly watched Fredrick make his way to a basement door.

"I'll make tea." He nodded as excused himself. "They're an odd bunch" He could be heard muttering as the door closed behind him.

"Anima what are you doing?" Geralt let out an exhausted sigh.

"I'm falling back on what I know . . . falling on my back."

"And I'm sure your back's gotten it's fair share of compliments but have you ever heard the phrase: Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" Jaskier figured maybe she was just sour with Geralt, that he could get through to her.

"I have. The plan's not to convince him to turn it over. It's to distract him, giving you time to nick the blood so we can go."

"I mean I've heard worse plans." Jaskier reasoned she hadn't gone completely mad.

"We're not stealing and you're not sleeping with Fredrick." Geralt would start with the most pressing point.

"WE'RE not doing anything cept wasting time."

"WE'RE waiting till your done with your godly tantrum so we can-"

"Tantrum?! The only person in this world that I care about is-"

"I get it Anima. You're mad, at Orwen, at me at the whole fucking world. Anima you're not the only one whose been dealt a shit hand in life!" The air grew quite, electric with hostility but hauntingly quiet.

"Should I help Fredrick with the tea?" Jaskier felt out of place between the two.

"You think this is about my sob story?" Anima was less pointed with this question, in a breakneck turn her voice had gone lifeless and somber.

"Tell me Anima what is this about?" Geralt was tired, he couldn't keep up.

"I . . .They're getting older Geralt." She glanced over to Jaskier as an example. "Thom, Janis. Thill, Orwen . . . even the little gremlins. I'm not, not like them. There will be a time when they're not there. Every second of every day I feel it closing in, I'll be alone Geralt. You . . . you've come to grips with that. Only giving in to company when the loneliness gets to your head. I'm not strong like you, it scares me, saddens me. I can't waste my moments with them being melencoly. Thill's been gone near two weeks now, I won't get that time back. I burry it and I'll continue to do so until . . . I had wanted to prove them wrong you know?" She traveled from one point to another with disregard but neither man dared interupt. Though Jaskier did mentally note this rant seemed a bit sobish. "They said I'd feel so much for so long till I grew numb of it. Detached from human emotion. I didn't want that . . . I was stubborn. I'm good at most things I put my mind to, I'm not used to failing." She ended with a chuckle, wiping proud yet woeful tears from the corners of her eyes.

"You're not failing. You're enduring. Failure would be giving in. You . . . We may not be exactly like them but humans have a habbit of rubbing off on you." Geralt had to admit Jaskier among other humans he had met had added layers to him, layers not necissarly conducive to monster hunting but that had stuck none the less. "If you continue to letting them rub off . . . preferably not in your sheets. You won't grow detatched." Geralt allowed some levity into the choked room. "The pain . . . the enduring will always be there. I thought my presence would hold you back, keep you from the life you deserve. I can't stay with you, give you anything proper but I can . . ." He had met a road block, he had spoken more words than he had in a year and he had none left to express how he felt.

"Being a strong stony Witcher is hard on Geralt too you know? Gets tired like the rest of us. Maybe the two of you could compromise? He could promise to check in on your endurance from time to time and you could promise to be there when he needs a break from the brooding? Whether or not that intails exclustivity I'm not going to touch." Jaskier did his best to drag Geralt to the finish line.

"I'm not going to sit by a window pining for him but I can try to be less of a witch when he comes to visit under better circumstanes."

"Hmm" The thick cloud around began to disolve.

"Tea?"

"Damnit Fredrick we were having a beautiful moment do you know how much will they won't they I've had to suffer through? Years Fredrick! No one gives a fuck about your tea." Jaskier exploded. "Sorry . . . Sorry. I . . Geralt I think you're rubbing off on me."

"Fredrick?"

"hmm?" This hermit was nothing if not a patient host.

"Do you know who I am?" They had wasted time, they needed to get moving.

"Aye the White Wolf."

"So then you know I travel all across the continent see all manners of beasts and treasures. If you give us the nymph blood, I promise extenuating circumstances aside every season I will bring you items to add to your collection." This was a promise to Anima as well, he wouldn't again avoid Lyria.

"On one condition. Miss Anima I put thought to what you said. Perhaps tangible things are not eveything in the world."

"So about that exclusivity?" Jaskier questioned nervously.

"No not that. I could hear you, terrible inside voices the lot of you. I understand you two are . . . well I don't know what you are but it seems confusing enough as it is. Miss Anima you three have been my first visitors in quite some time. I . . .I get lonely too. Perhaps you could visit more. Not to tour anything just-"

"I think you'll make a fine friend Fredrick. We'll have to turn down the tea today but perhaps when I get back we can all share a cup." This was a promise to Geralt as well, she hadn't been tapped of her goodwill to the outcasts, not everything had changed.


	8. Time to reflect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there are wolves in the woods.

As was always Geralt's pace they pushed, past night and into morning before a quick rest and resumed pushing. They only rightfully stopped in Kagen, a town at the very edge of the Riverdell region. They were on a hunt for clues and amongst the gossip and ghost stories they got some. "They're angry with the people of Rivendell for producing false grails." Geralt stated between bites of bar food.

"And that means . . . what? We don't know fish people Geralt are they going to try to eat us or not?" Jaskier was rubbing at tired eyes, all this push was hard on the human.

"They don't eat humans and don't call them fish people." Geralt always tried to remind Jaskier that there was not much outside of appearances that separated intelligent creatures. "Only followers of the lady in the lake really concern themselves with grail nonsense."

"So this is good news." Anima felt the ball of worry sitting heavy in her stomach loosen slightly. "So we should go now." She was tired too, she was not used to such lengthy travel in such a short period of time but fatigue was outweighed by her need to save Thill.

"It will be a slog Anima we can't be sluggish getting through the warriors. It's the priests we can reason with. We'll sleep tonight." Geralt nearly smirked at the quick thank to the gods Jaskier shot up to the ceiling. "Sunrise we'll go for her Anima. It's unwise to run in half ready."

"Hmm" She took his coined displaced grunt as her own.

"I heard sleep." Jaskier stretched out a comically long yawn and stood, shuffling to a long yearned for bed.

"Anima I know it's hard-" He had felt the same helplessness when they had gone to save her from the druid.

"Maybe we're close enough." She had barely heard him, she wasn't allowing her mind to quiet, it only brought terrible what if's. She stood to leave.

"Anima didn't you listen to what I said?" He watched for a moment from the now empty table.

"Rest Geralt. I need to find somewhere quite. She might be close enough to sense."

"Hmm" It was clear she didn't venture outside city limits often the way she sauntered into the night without a care.

"All I can feel is your worry Witcher." Sitting in a clearing half an hour outside of town Anima gave an agitated shout. Her eyes were shut but her face was knitt in frustration and what had cause the worry in the first place, pain. Her teeth were grinding, her heatbeat alarmingly fast. Fingernails had dug into the cluster of veins of the opposing wrist, there was just the smallest amount of blood. Just enough to move Geralt from his acceptance of giving her space. He had stood at her first footprints into the woods after she left, he did not wish to be overprotecting but the blood, her blood, he'd rather be over protective than she be dead.

"This is how all the old wives tale start. A young beauty foolishly disapearing into the night."

"Compliments will get you nowhere Geralt" Her tone was fully annoyed. "Please, she's quite far away I . . ." Her head crained as if she was listening but shook when she lost it. "I need to focus." His eyes settled on her for a moment before replying, taking note, this was now the benchmark, she was not in danger her heart was beating fast, painfully fast he swore he could hear it tap against her rib cage but if she could endure it then who was he to question. "Geralt. I enjoy this far less than you, but I need to find her." He could hear her mollars squeak against one another.

"Fine." He relented, he went back to his post, waiting, listening and doing his best to stifle worry.

The task grew harder after an hour had passed. The blood was mixing with sweat, she was running herself ragged. He could stifle it no longer when it changed, the benchmark heartbeat had dropped, no longer was the hummingbird pace prodding at his eardrums. He walked slowly at first, he knew the workings of a Witcher, a mutated empath that was rare even for the books in Kaer Morhen. What if she had found Thill after all that hard work and he broke her concentration by charging in. His footing grew more delibrate as his nose picked up how very much not alone Anima was. Nothing terribly exotic but wolves would tear apart a sitting duck same as any beast. When she came into his eyeline he started to sprint to the woman laid prone in the dirt but was halted by an exhusted cry.

"I found her!" He watched as with great effort she slouched into a seated position. "She's alive, not scared as the rest of them. Think she knew we'd come for her." She tried to get to her feet but she did not fight the objection from Geralt as he sat next to her.

"Catch your breath." It still bothered him, the out of tempo inhales and exhales.

"She used to be scared of . . ." One of those long breaths paused her. "Everything. That's how it started, the two of us, symbiotic. She was a stupidly happy young girl. I leached off that, when she wasn't happy she was . . . scared. I could fix that, take that from her."

"Does it hurt?" His eyes kept dropping to her wrist, nailmarks starting to scab around the edges but that wasn't what he was speaking of. "I know with me . . . but . . . humans?" He hated when people pried with morbid curiosity at his mutations but he couldn't stop the words from spilling out.

"With you it's like running a marathon in a minute, body's not equiped for that. Human's it's . . ." She searched for a fitting comparrison. "Jumping from one stone to one just a bit too far over. Over extends enough to be unconfortable but . . . you learn to get used to to the leap. There was . . . a lot of stones tween me and Thill." She glanced over at Geralt to see if she made sense. When he nodded she glanced upward at the night sky.

"You must get tired of looking at it." She mapped out the few constellations she knew. "I never got to see it much. More of an inside animal." The wording of her sentence hit Geralt poorly. As he saw her face tighten he knew she didn't like it much either. "They always used to call me that. Animal, I hated it." Her scowl deepened as she continued to study the stars. "That's why the gremlins call me Ma . . . they didn't mean ill will but when they'd . . ." Her nose wrinkled into an almost shamefull snarl.

"Thorns don't mean ill will doesn't make them prick any less." It didn't bother him as much anymore, but he was not keen to be called a butcher.

"Think we should leave the metaphors to the bard?" She didn't look at him, she hadn't stopped staring into the night, perhaps she was worried if their eyes locked the spell that had allowed for such casual conversation would be broken.

"They lose their shine. It'll grow to bore you." He glanced up squinting for half a second before looking back at her.

"Does any of it . . . not bore you anymore?" It was an odd question to Geralt, pointless even. It's just what he did, what he always had done to stay alive same as breathing. And who asks your favortite part of breathing? He grumbled and tossed the words over in his head. He wanted a quality answer for her.

"When it matters. I'm not changing the state of the world . . . clearly." There was vodyanoi on land, things were getting worse not better. "It's mostly making busy work of blood and guts. Sometimes it matters to someone, changes the state of their world. And . . ." Anima's star gazing could keep the spell's hold no longer. Geralt was growing wary of this openess. She wouldn't let go though, not of the moment, not of Geralt. She leaned in a now familiar way onto his shoulder, lacing fingers between his. "When we're in town and Jaskier's got an audience around his finger, spinning some yarn. Sometimes they forget." Against his own boundries he pressed on.

"Forget?"

"That I'm not one of them." It was rare but he had seen it, first and most in the bard himself but there were times where people looked at him not with fear, anger or even desperate need sometimes he was just a man sitting at an Inn sharing a good time. He had not bored of those glimpses of humanity, they had not lost their shine. "Enough." His jaw grew tired from talking, he was feeling bare and vulnerable causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

"Fine." Anima gave his hand a tight squeeze as she stood, puzzled when he did not follow.

"And you?" Geralt's eyes were scanning around, searching or rather finding something. His concentration slightly split he felt reality closing in on their stolen moment but he greedily grasped for more of what made up Anima.

"Me?" Anima was squinting to try and see what Geralt had found in the forest. _'Not a human.'_ She couldn't sense anyone other than him. He didn't feel angry, or worried he seemed bizarrely content and wanting in the same moment.

"What doesn't bore . . . what makes you happy?" Satisfied with his scan he finally stood. "If you say Jam I will let the wolves have you."

"Wolves?" He was behind her now, their intertwined hands holding him against her, his chin resting atop her head, she could feel a soft grumble come from his throat. Any wolf would have to get past him first.

"Don't change the subject."

"I . . . I don't know. I've made it my business in finding hapiness in pleas . . . in making other's happy. That's why the preserve that shall not be named stuck I . . . remember liking that before they-"

"Hmm" He broke their hold, perhaps it wasn't the answer he was looking for. Perhaps her vauge recolections had bothered him. But as she followed behind him out of the forest she thought perhaps that was one of the reasons she liked him. He wasn't easy to read, even harder to please. Despite that even though sometimes she bothered, angered, made the Witcher worry he kept coming back to her.

It was awkward for a moment, as they both stared at the one vacent bed. They hadn't put any thought to it when paying for the room but it had been actual years since they had shared a bed just for rest and even then there had been magic at play. "Sunrise right?" Anima had not forgotten about Thill, and part of her still wanted to gallop into the night.

"Sunrise." Geralt promised amidst kicking off his boots, removing layers of armor. He watched with amused fascination as Anima curled on the bed into an almost impossibly small ball of limbs and blankets. "Cold?"

"A little." He was behind her again, engufing her in his arms. Much like the wolves, the cold would have to get through him first. It was times like this, times with her as he let his eyes close and his head hit the pillow, that even he forgot. He wasn't the butcher of Blavikan, he wasn't an emotionless Witcher, he wasn't sure what was left but that's all he was and all she needed. "This makes me happy." She wasn't sure if he heard, if he was even awake but she said it all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to the end here. I love this story, but I think it's riding a bit long. I'll either start a new one with these characters or something with just canon Witcher characters I'll have to see.


	9. Time to act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Power plays

She felt utterly useless. It made sense when Geralt yelled at them to stay back for Jaskier to hide behind a tree, he was human, but she was more, she should be doing more. She could take away the fatigue she was sure to be behind Geralt's grunts or the pain of the claw marks on his flesh. She was able but she knew that would just anger and consequently distract him. _'What about the Vodyanoi?'_ She locked eyes best she could with one of the far off warriors. She racked her brain for what she knew about them, how she could relate, connect. Could she latch to it's heartbeat? Did they even have one? Focusing harder she just kept picturing a grail, she knew they cared about that.

"Anima? What are you doing?" Jaskier watched as one warrior grew disintrested in Geralt, lurching awkwardly in their direction. Taking his eyes off the creature for a moment he saw Anima clutching at her chest staring unblinkingly at the monster, her free hand reaching out in a half beconing half grabbing motion. She made the leap, it didn't hurt the same, not as humans, not as the Witcher it was a new and peculiar ache. The only way to describe it was her heart had a case of the hiccups, sharp and plucky.

"I . . . I did it!" There was a bit of madness in her chuckle.

"Great now stop doing it!" Jaskier gave Anima a shake as the one vodyanoi became two.

"Loyalty." It was all she could feel, an unshakeable need to protect was the sole motivation to every one of the creature's movements. "Wait there's something else." She focused harder still gasping with each hiccup. As the second Vodyanoi's oil slick claw came down to swipe at the tunnel visioned Anima she bent that loyalty to her will the first warrior tackling her atacker, ungracefully the two fought and flopped in the grass.

"I don't . . . Geralt?!" This was too weird for Jaskier who called out to the expert on oddities.

"Fuck." Geralt had seen them, of course he had but he couldn't exactly excuse himself from the hord encroaching them from the front. Instead he had to work harder faster, dirtier. With ugly painful hacks he dispatched the targets within reach. With haggard angry breaths he ran over to the mess Anima had started. First and with authority he killed the Vodyanoi not under her control. Face full of bared fangs and eyes glowing with rage he shouted "Now would be a good time to leap off Anima!" She did, let go just in time before another ugly hack ended the last warrior. She had heard differing stories of what would happen if an empath held onto another through death during training, she was not curious enough to find where the truth lied.

As the last body settled in the grass Geralt paused only for a moment before using all his broadness to box Anima into the tree he had wanted her to hide behind. "Don't do that again." She had seen Geralt plenty angry before but never had so much of that rage been pointed squarely at her.

"I was trying to help." She did not enjoy being scolded like a child.

"You could have died." Memories of Anima contorted in a healer's cove holding onto his heartbeat flashed before his eyes. "What help would that have been? It's not a risk worth taking Anima. I can handle this just-"

"All by yourself, take all the risks. If anyone should die it should be you?"

"Hmm" He backed off slightly, opening his mouth to say something but holding it back. Only for a moment though, he walked away briefly, turned away from her before speaking. "I know what I'm doing." If he had time to say it in a way that didn't come off as patronizing he would have but time was something they were already lacking.

"I can't learn what I can do-" She glanced down at her useless, uterly useless hands. "Unless I try." She had fled before her training was complete and in years of under use she had forgotten half of what she did study. The fact remained, she knew she could do more.

He didn't respond, just took a deep breath and did what made sense, walked in the direction of danger. He wanted to tell her that was his job, not her's. That she was right, if anyone of them were to die it should be him. He wanted to tell her that he feared death, not his own but there's. Witcher's sleep, they have nightmares and his mind had shown Anima and Jaskier dying at the hands of many a beast, in ways each more horrific than the last. Leaving him a living memoriam. He would not allow that to happen. Him, all by himself was capable of keeping those he cared about safe. He knew no order of those sentiments would stop her and that left a sinking dread in his pit, a feeling he tucked away. Whether or not Anima wanted to hear it, the battle ground was no place for feelings.

When they finally reached the inner city it was swarming with Vodyanoi of all varaities, priets, warriors and common one's alike. Geralt could be stealthy, he could be a shadow. Jaskier on the otherhand was a lighthouse for danger and Anima had been unpredictable since the start of the treck. "Hmm" He did not like these odds. "I need you to listen to me Anima."

"Right, right, hide. Come on Jaskier."

"Listen." Geralt grumbled. "You can help but first I need to get there alone. I won't be here if something goes wrong. Do you understand?"

"I understand." She didn't bite or quip, she was taking his words seriously.

He had to hide them somewhere, eveywhere smelled of death. Orwen had not exagerated, Riverdell had been rightfully seiged. A stable, that would do. As they entered they were met by the sight of three dead horses as well as what appeared to be the stablemen and possibly his son, also dead. Geralt glanced over his shoulder half expecting a shriek of horror or sorrow to come from either Anima or Jaskier, none came. Jaskier looked green around the ears and was uncharateristicly mute and Anima seemed to roll through a handfull of emotions scoping from surprise to anger to an implacable mix of confusion and envy as she muttered something under her breath. Something about a paradox and catching the end as she sat in a pile of hay "What should be and shouldn't be. Kids and their parents Anima you'll never understand." That seemed like emotional baggage that they simply in the moment did not have time for.

"If anyone other than me comes through here-"

"Fight them to the death? For honor and glory?" Anima had not completely forgotten the scolding from earlier. "Just find Thill Geralt . . . Please." She could see how hard he was trying, how much burden he was taking and despite how it stung her to sit aside, she was also grateful for what he was putting himself through.

"Hmm" Hinges creaked a the gate closed behind him.

"Stop pacing woman you're driving me dizzy." Jaskier was less worried about the hours plus that had past, he knew hunting monsters took time and reasoning with them twice as long. "He said he would be back didn't he?"

"Did he? I recall him saying he had to go it alone like some headstrong idiot and-" Her worried venting was broken by the sound of creaking hinges.

"The headstrong idiot's back" Jaskier mused glad for once it was not his foot danging from his mouth.

"Geralt! Did you find her?" She ran at him full force her palms bracing her collision into his chest. She was surprised as his footing faltered, they stumbled back a few paces, a hand clutched around her waist in what appeared to be an act of instinct. "You're hurt." Fingers reached up to Geralts neck which was shiny and slick with blood and something else. He winced slightly, craining away from her touch.

"Fine." He grumbled out, he looked paler than usual, bordering on sickly. "This is her." It was finally made clear that Geralt had not come alone. Standing next to him was what from well crested and ornate garb signified to be a high ranking priest. "I told him-" Even his words seemed sickly, none of the strong weight behind them that was normally ever present. "You could find who was behind the false grails."

"How is she supposed to do that? She's an empath not a mind reader."

"Geralt? Are you alright?" A hand placed some of Geralt's crazed hair behind an ear, she continued to touch him, almost to make sure he wouldn't fade from existence. "What did you do to him?" Anima glared over at the Vodyanoi priest but the peices were slowly coming together in her mind. Alone he had fought, sweat and killed just to get court with this priest, just to bring him to her. Geralt had taken more risks and concequently more bumps than the calculative Witcher normally would have just to give her a chance. "In exchange for Thill-" Glazed eyes shot over his shoulder at Anima's captive friend sandwiched between two vodyanoi gaurds. "You'll find the forger."

"Thill!" Anima gawked in awe, things were slightly looking up. Thill looked tired and unkept, but she had never lost that follish happiness. She waved eagerly over at Anima as if she was greeting her from across the way at a garden party.

"I'm fine Anima!" As one worry eased another grew as Anima's ears perked to Geralt letting out a hefty sigh. She felt guilty for all the grief she had put him through. It gave her unease how his eyes seemed to close and stay closed for a moment too long.

"Thank you Geralt." She hugged him, again worried he would fade into the ether.

"Finally." He sat his head atop her's, breathing in a familiar scent after hearing a familiar voice. She had finally said his name as she had before. He held her closer, both arms resting possesively around the small of her back afraid to lose what he had fought so hard to find. Even when she had been agreeable and at points kind to him along their trip she hadn't been the Anima he remembered. There had been a curt darkness around her, every heightened sense had noticed. She looked different, on edge and skeptical of him. Sounded different, accusatory and distrustful. Smelled different, of fear and fatigue. She felt different, as close to his bones as his own skin she seemed worlds away. Different wasn't the right word, she was the same as everyone else. He had done everything in his power to feel the difference, to have back the girl that made him feel different. He thought he had lost her, to the sands of time and the warnings of the masses. He needed that difference, he needed her, he had fallen for her. That realization jostled him from his comforting stupor. This was more baggage for another time. "They don't want to be here Anima." At least the weight of his voice was coming back, as he was filled with a second wind.

"Homesick" She nodded from her spot at his chest. That was the other feeling she had noted in the warrior earlier. "Right." In a move that was painful to the both of them she broke from her spot against Geralt. "If I find him." She could, she had to, she would. "Will they just leave? What will they do with them?" She had already started leaping, first to Thill, to leach off some of that happiness.

"They killed to get here. They didn't want to kill more than they had to. They just wanted him." His eyes glanced over to the dead father and son. "This could have been avoided."

"I'm sure he feels guilty." Anima was leaping from stone to stone, searching through waves of fear for that ping of said guilt.

"They'll bring him and his transgressions before the lady of the lake."

"Surely just a slap on the wrist then?" Jaskier saw more moral quandary in this exchange than Geralt and Anima, perhaps it was the purely human perspective.

This was hard, when searching for Thill she knew exactly what heartbeat she was looking for. Now she had to leap and submerge herself in pool after pool of emotions only coming up for air in between leaps. It did not take long for Anima to give into the need to sit. Eyes clenched shut as her mind began to pull apart at the strain. Half of her mind continued turning over stone after stone, searching for the hiding guilt. The other part was drowning, in the fear, in her fear, it was growing harder and harder to distinguish her emotions from those of Rivendell as she frenzied through them. The gaps of air were now acompanied by a claw at her wrist, assuring her that her own pulse was still there.

Geralt was sat across from Anima, as he came to grips with the fact he'd never grow comfortable with the way her muscles jerked, her heartbeat sped, they way she pulled at her veins, it would gut him every time. He didn't blink as the moments grew long, as the sound and smell of Anima's blood hitting hay echoed throughout the stable. "Anima?" He wanted to tell her to be careful, to slow down but before the words passed his throat he watched as her eyes burst open. White, every bit, fully inhuman. When his pupils expanded into black pits it brought out the pure beast in him, made him immesurably intune with his physical primal senses. This was the counter ballance, everything natural, grounded in dirt and flesh was out of her scope. She was fully lost on a plane of emotion, her every pore, every shard of glass pumping through her blood reflecting her fear as reality. "Geralt."

They were in the woods, stars above them, wolves around them but none of that mattered to her. "Geralt." He mattered to her, his warmth burning her from the inside out, pleasurable preasure building. His fingernails were digging in her hips with a sweet pang of pain. His teeth doubled the effort leaving wanted marks on her shoulder blade. He thrust at an angel that he knew made her squeak and buck up greedily to meet him. It was not gentle, they were not gentle. A hand wrapped around her wrist like a vice, holding it to his chest. He was asking for it, demanding the extra throw of pleasure only she could provide him. There was no worry in his eyes as his mouth moved from her shoulder to her neck up to her pink and panting lips. Another hand with knowing fingers left her hip and pinched and rolled at a pert cluster of nerves. "Geralt!" She cried out for him again as she felt all that building pressure burst and wash through their bodies.

It wasn't like before, he would lay with her before. This time he was off in a hurry as if he had forgotten a kettle on the stove. "You're leaving." Her voice sounded pitiful and desperate.

"Hmm." He was nearly dressed, nearly gone.

"Geralt?" He had not once answered to his name, up till now that always got a response, dependent on her inflection.

"Yes?" There was a look she had never seen before in his amber eyes, a look that she hated, that drained her. She would have rathered he had not responded at all

"Is something wrong?"

"No." His tone was not pointed, and yet still it stuck at her.

"Geralt?" She kept beckoning him, kept hoping to alter his gaze but it held fast.

"Hmm?" His face wasn't annoyed but his posture lent to the idea he had other places to be.

"I think . . . I think there is something wrong." She was finally getting dressed herself, feeling more naked and bare by the second.

"What?" There was nothing, absolute indifference was all he had for her.

"You seem . . ." She stopped, he hadn't done anything wrong, every time he had done everything he could for her. It must have been her, she must have done something, or not done something for them to grow detached. She had given all her body had to offer, for most that was enough, perhaps it was something else she hadn't given him. "Don't laugh."

"Do I strike you as someone who laughs?" He seemed same as always for the most part, just the look in his eyes was off.

"I don't think there's anyone else . . . for me." She did her best to be outright, to be open, it made her queasy but his response made her stomach bottom out, her heart shred into ribbons.

"There will be others." Again his words weren't cruel, at least not intentionally so. It was his normal matter a fact cadence that broke her fully. "Everything . . . Everyone loses their shine eventually." That was the look she hadn't seen before, boredom, he had tired of her. There had been others before her and would be others after her and she had been the one in between.

"Right." Her pursed lips curled into the most pitiful smile. She wanted to be mad but she couldn't. At who? For what? It was then she felt something beneth her palm, among the grass she had been nervously shredding at she felt a slow heartbeat, a tangible steady rhythm, calling her back to reality. "Geralt" This time she was met with a far off voice, and she felt her shoulder rock not of her own doing.

"Anima. I'm here. I'm right fucking here!" There was the worry she knew.

"Useless Elder damn useless." Tears were flowing down her cheeks. Geralt was coming to save her again, from her own emotional folly and she felt it, in spades she felt it. "Guilt!"

He had yanked off his armor after the third time he heard her vapildly call out his name. By the time she stuttered out that something was wrong he had both her hands one stained crimson with her own blood at his chest, trying to ground her trying to calm her. She was crying, full streams of tears ruinning her face. Her eyes were deathly white like a creature possessed. In sounder mind he would wonder if he looked as terrifying when he fully gave into his mutations. Instead he tried brute force, tried shaking sense into her. "Anima?!"

"Guilt!" She breached the surface. He could see her pupils slowly coring out a space in her haunted gaze. She pushed off of him in a frenzy, stumbling to her feet, drunken strides led her out of the stable. "I've got it, the guilt I have it."

"Anima." He grabbed her wrist to keep her from tumbling over. Her sight had not fully returned, she was only half conscious. It did bring him peace to hear her heartbeat return to that of a human's. That peace was short lived as she yanked her wrist back falling to her knees in quick succession.

"Useless, useless. He'll leave you when he realizes your useless He'll leave you regardless." She willed herself to her feet knees folding in awkwardly as she did so. "Guilt. I've . . . I've found him." That mad smile found it's way onto her face. Her breath was settling her vision clearing.

"Anima?" Thill was close, so close.

"I'll be right back, everything will be ok." Madness gave way to confidence. "Come." She pulled on the sleeve of the Vodyanoi preist's robe. Her eyes glanced over at a gobsmacked Geralt but she quickly broke the stare as if it burnt her.

"The fuck was that?"Jaskier placed a hand on his equally confused friend's shoulder.

"She has no control. She's got a deathwish." Geralt followed slowly behind Anima watching dutifully at her still uneven steps. She wasn't wrong, she could do more, but at what cost? What would happen when she went too far and couldn't find her way back? What would he do if he couldn't bring her back to him? Burn the world to ashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating so quickly because honestly I am quite pleased with this chapter.


	10. Time to face the fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really quite happy with how the story turned out. I'd like to write more but before touching these characters again I think I'll wait till I'm fully comfortable with the canon. Maybe I'll do some one shots or one of those Geralt / Jaskier fics everyone (myself included) Is so fond of. Any guidence or suggestions would be welcomed. Anyway thank you ver much for reading my angst fest :)

They found Landin Eaudwulf, she had found the one Geralt had hoped she would. Not the blacksmith who made the grails under comission to feed his family. The Witcher could have sniffed out the ore and soot on his hands within moments. Any guilt that man felt was balanced by the need to care of those that depended him. No, he knew Anima would be able to distinguish it, find the man who had ordered and sold the false grails to better fill his weighted pockets. Her unintentional theatrics had convinced the Vodyanoi that Landin was the perpetrator of the blasphemy.

True to their promise, they turned over Thill and left the ruined Rivendell with the greedy merchant in toe. The human's didn't see that Vodyanoi had been in anyway lenient, not taking into account they could have all been killed once the city had been breached. They did not empathize with these literal fish out of water protecting what they found most sacred, and acting in homesick prideful desperation to make things right as quick as possible. They never did, Geralt had been in situations like this before. All the human's ever saw were monsters. To them he and Anima weren't much better, just spoke their language, were less harsh on the eyes. That was the reasoning he came to while the rest of the Lyrian's outside of Thill opted not to travel with them.

Even the kind, open minded Thill saw the Vodyanoi as monsters. Not for their claws and scales but for keeping her from her children. "Benton and Lorna they're alright aren't they?" After thanks to her resue party it was the first question past her lips.

"Your ankle bitters are fine." Anima had an arm over Thill's shoulder they swayed happily with each step.

"I meant to ask. Thom and Janis failed to brag about those those two . . . surprises." Jaskier rounded the otherside placed his arm over Thill's other shoulder.

"They haven't met them yet. Oh they'll be over the moon Anima!" Thill swayed and smiled.

"I'd like to get to town before noon." It's not that Geralt didn't enjoy the moment. He had actually turned roach round so he could save it in his mind. Friends carefree and smiling as the sun rose behind them. There was just the small fact that he was burning in every sense of the word. His wounds had already clotted and begun to heal, but what ever oily substance that laid on Vodyanoi's claws was searing at each open cut. That alone he could curse and grunt through. It was the burning from his inside that he needed dealt with.

 _' I don't think there's anyone else ...for me'_ He was torn between hope and self deprication. Did she love him? Was that possible? The fear in her voice, had it scared her that she had allowed herself to become intertwined with the Witcher? _' He'll leave you when he realizes your useless. He'll leave you regardless.'_ Did she think herself a tool, a weapon? Worried she'd dull and he'd toss her aside? She was smarter more self assured than that wasn't she? She knew even if she broke into a thousand pieces he'd weld her back together surely. Wherever her search had taken her had he rebuffed her? How could on any plane she belive he'd deny her? She had to know by now he'd do anything for her, to keep her safe, to please her, to have her say his name. _'Geralt.'_ It sounded sorrowful, almost mourning on her lips. He had left her, he always had but she was always so boastfuly confident that he'd come back. She knew that time and obligations would tear them apart but she knew better than anyone he'd always return to her didn't she? His diffent girl, he still had her didn't he? ' _No wonder you can't sleep with all these nagging questions in your skull.'_ He thought back to the first night he had met her. These burning questions were turning him to cinders. As he rejoined the present and tried to look to Anima for any answers the way her gaze flinched and diverted finding reprive anywhere but in the Witcher's eyes raked his already flayed flesh over the coals. Geralt was not one to dwell in uncertainty and here he was up to his neck in it.

"Woof look at that scowl, peel paint off a barnside wouldn't it?" Jaskier cringed as he ushered the women to a quicker pace. He felt for Geralt, not only did he single handily dispatch a battalion of Vodyanoi but he could see how out of his comfort zone Geralt had placed himself. How he was battling with those elusive Witcher emotions of myth. Jaskier had to do something for his friend, had to give him some rest. "And I'm not done with you Thill. Are you telling me those two are new borns? What are you feeding them?" He could fill the air with fluff and small talk. Geralt wouldn't be able to wallow and worry over the sound of Jaskier's babble. He'd chatter till they reached Kagen, start serenading the clouds to keep the Witcher out of his head.

"Oh no! While Benton and Lorna are a new additions to Orwen and my family they aren't new borns. I didn't birth them, destiny found another to fill our hearts." Thill was met by a trio of groans, she was not in the company of fans of destiny.

"What they come with the estate?" Jaskier grinned as they traveled further. He watched Geralt wrinkle his nose and pick up his pace, busy being annoyed by his simple human companions.

"The world's at war. Leaves children orphaned. Orwen's got a bit of a bleeding heart he-" 

"Orwen's got a bleeding heart." Anima scoffed.

"And a broken nose." Jaskier noted.

"What?"

"Forget it. I'm just glad it was only the two that got pawned off on you." Anima didn't feel now was the time to explain her assault on Thill's husband.

"Come off it you know you love them. Be carefull Geralt Anima might just find a child for the two of you on our way home!" Her words were sweet and harmless but bit at the tense air like ice dipped daggers

"Ha! No Thill. Brief and refundable that's my parenting style. Maternal instinct something you inherit I guess." In contrast Anima's words were bleak but her voice carried enough joke and and warmth behind it to carry them forward.

"Before noon." Geralt repeated with less than a hint of annoyance. He caught the tips of her fingers straining down to scraped flesh. From childhood she had been used to being left, viewed as convient until woefuly otherwise. She didn't let it define her but oh how it made her leary of attachment. Geralt could relate to that sentiment. He had been deserted by his human parents, parents that were supposed to love him. Left to the Witchers, they became his new family, Witcher's were masters of many skills love was not one of them. The Witcher's drifted, died. Humanity deserted him too, Witchers as a whole. They had protected when no one else could, stripped themselves of futures and legacy, emotions and aspirations, blood and bone and it had not been enough. Humanity should have loved the Witchers, loved him, but they hadn't. Geralt was enough, had done enough to prove to the gods that he deserved to be loved back but even the gods rejected him.

He didn't remember his parents, couldn't morn the Witchers, incable of faulting the humans, wouldn't pray to the gods. All those things, thoughts, emotions that he couldn't manage, couldn't release, Anima had taken it all, withought qualm or question, in it's crude and dusted form, allowed him to breath. When those who should have didn't. She still didn't know? Still was unsure of her worth? Perhaps his actions had not been enough to convince her, perhaps he would have to use his words. "Fuck."

"Maybe enough talking. Thill any Lyrian tunes you've been missing?" Jaskier fumbled with his lute case as his brisk walked turned more into a flogged jog. Serenading the clouds it would be.

For once in any of their lives they made it to a destination perfectly on time, not hours early or minutes too late. "You ask for noon we give you noon!" Red face and horse throated Jaskier looked over at Geralt for any sign of improved mood.

"Hmm." The was no prize at the end of this race.

"No thanks, selfish, the lot of them." He turned to look over his shoulder as Anima and Thill walked in a good length behind no aparent haste in their step. Thill gushing at the fact that Anima had made a friend who she planned to meet for tea when they returned. Jaskier could feel the walls begin to reform, one brick at a time. "We're back to sqaure one again? You know what? No, enough! You have dragged this out beyond what is tasteful. Get your heads out of you gods damned asses!" Choppy bangs ruffled as he glared between the two idiots he'd almost gotten killed for too many times.

"Jaskier are you alright?" Thill lit the fuse and they watched the bard explode.

"No Thill I'm not alright! I've watched these two gripe and pine for each other for half a decade now. For you two it might be a piss in a pond but to me it is insufferable. You-" He pointed at Anima for all eyes to see. "Have been insufferable! What more do you want from him? How much more blood does he have to bleed for you? When that man called you a succubus he was right. Pulling every last emotion out of an already droughted well! Half promises of affection is that what he's supposed to survive on? Scraps? Have you ever . . . even once, after all he's done even uttered in that too posh for politics voice of yours that you love him?" Jaskier would not sit idly by and watch his friend be neglected so flippantly.

"Love is for humans." Anima didn't match Jaskier volume, didn't raise her voice past the afore mentioned tone she was known for. Her eyes didn't bulge in outrage or outcry they lulled in a long walked fatigue. "Everything . . .Everyone loses their shine." It might have been a fever dream but she stated it as cool fact.

"Anima don't be-" Thill could not save Anima from the blast.

"Fine. Geralt enough is enough lets go. Anywhere but here. Not too far off is a town and-"

"One room please." Sturdy as ever Geralt showed no sign of quake in his footing as he approached the Innkeeper. " Stop shouting. We can leave in the morning Jaskier. I need to treat my wounds." Again the physical injuries were nothing of much note but he was wounded. Every muated bone in his body ached. _'Love is for humans.'_ That was her fear. She was scared that he couldn't love her, or that she couldn't love him. Thought and feeling were two sides of the same coin, but it was meant for their faces not to touch. Perhaps she had noticed hours earlier and him a moment too late that this wasn't a piss in a pond but into the wind, splashing back at them.

"I . . .Geralt you don't have to take this." Jaskier could see it, Geralt was rigid and tense, this wan't a man crumbling to a blow but asking for another.

"I'd like one room please." He ignored the bard and simply repeated himself to the Innkeeper.

"We'll leave Jaskier." Anima had hoped his lungs had finally given out.

"Oh thank you! Please miss how can we ever repay you?! Geralt scrounge a butter knife cut out some dragon hearts and put it at her nightstand won't you?" He spat as her heels turned, snarling as the door closed behind them.

"Geralt I don't care if her nethers are plated in gold. We are not going after her!" Jaskier was baked from the sun and still very much hot to the touch.

"No. We're not." Geralt grimaced at the lewed imagery as he took his long sought after room key.

"Thank the-"

"I am." His lurch to a bed was halted by a sharp finger diging into the open cut on his neck.

"Are you a fucking dolt?! She said it herself she doesn't love you. You can't win every battle with brawn and tenacity Geralt. I'm sorry she toyed with you but-"

"You were wrong." He wrenched Jaskier's tallon from his flesh.

"When? How Geralt? What of my words were untrue?"

"She's said she loves me before. She knows that, last feelings she can hide from are her own. Scares her, scares me to think I could lose it, and I think that . . .often." Past nightmares flood his tired mind, the softest sound of her nails raking brutaly against her own skin rained down on his ear drums. "Now are you going to help patch me up and let me rest? Or do I have to bleed the last of my blood to get to her?"

For a moment Jaskier was rendered silent. It was not till Geralt sat slouched on the edge of his bed, painfully peeled off his armor and had handed over the gauze that he retorted. "I don't believe you."

"Hmm?" Even arching an eyebrow in question was tired work, Geralt was fully spent.

"I don't believe she said she loved you." Begrudingly he did pat dirt and Vodyanoi residue from Geralt's flesh. He may have been a love sick dolt, it didn't mean he deserved to sit in discomfort.

"You're not the one I've got to convince." Geralt let his eyes close as he meditated on all the pesky words everyone was so keen on using.

"Speak your mind Thill." Anima's hands were laced behind her head as she walked slow, yet still yards ahead of her companion. "Now is apparently the time for that." Anima was tired, she was growing more and more tired of these loud tragic human emotions. Thill was normally quietly happy but Anima could hear thunderous judgement and hurt in her heartbeat.

"You don't really believe that do you?" Where Jaskier sounded as if a blood vessle might burst Thill sounded as if she might break down and sob where she stood.

"Believe what?" It was a stupid question, she knew what Thill was asking but Anima was just so tired. Of talking, of feeling she just wanted to walk in silence for eternity till her bones turned to dust was that too much to ask?

"That love is for humans."

"Thill what does it matter?" Anima shrugged off the question a second time, unequipped to handle the answer.

"That would mean you don't love us. Your family Anima. Me, Thom and Janis, Orwen, the little ones. That it was all just . . . a lie or an experiment or-"

"Say it's not." Anima let out a tired sigh. "Say it's not the most elaborate long con ever. Is my love going to make you immortal Thill? Will you never die, will I never lose your love? Anima, then why look a gift horse in the mouth? Geralt's a Witcher he'll likely outlive you it's a match made in the hevans! If the person doesn't die the love damn sure will. It's like a snowflake Thill, fun to catch beautiful to hold in your hand but it always melts. Love is the most fleeting useless emotion there is. When you're all gone I will . . . leave it to the humans. Want is much more . . . practical."

"Want? Like sex? Love isn't-"

"I . . .no want like . . needs it's not . . ." Hands fell from behind her neck to her hips as she searched for the words. "Not just sex, people always need something. I can always find that, always be what a person needs."

"You can't make someone love you."

"I didn't say that." She hadn't. It had crossed her mind. She had brought a man to tears, willed a Vodyanoi into battle. If she trained hard enough she surely could use her skills to keep the Witcher in love with her. Hands went from her hips to around her waist. It was a dark notion indeed.

 _' If you do whatever just feels right without thinking of concequences. Of how it will effect others'_ Her mind traveled back to the swamp a mental space she rarely revisited. At the vaugest thought of losing Geralt had she quickly sucumb to thinking like the druid? She would not allow herself to become a villin.

"You know the difference Anima. It wouldn't be special, wouldn't be the snowflake." Thill watched as Anima finally stopped. Maybe she had finally gotten through to her friend.

"Did it sound as corny when I said it? Must've" She snorted coldly.

"You told me to speak my mind. So let me?"

"Fine." Anima started walking again.

"You get lost in your ability Anima. You forget to just . . . feel. It's not a science. And you know that."

"Do I?" Her least favorite word, detached, hung around her throat like a noose.

"You knew I was a human when you met me didn't you?"

"I figured as much."

"Knew I would die eventually?"

"Thill? Your pep talk isn't exactly . . . pepping. I made a mistake, I was a weak young thing. It won't happen again. I'll keep it under control." Her arms hugged herself tighter, she could do that. She had been given this ability for a reason. Emotional stabilty in an era of chaos.

"Do you regret your mistake?" Thill asked with vulnerability in her voice.

"I . . . No Thill." Anima admitted, and that worried her. Could she be strong? Strong like Geralt?

"That's what love is. Love defies logic, reason and control. The two of you would be better off not loving each other but you do anyway you know that right?"

"Frustratingly impractical." Anima sighed. "Can we get to town soon Thill? I'm tired." She was right, and that didn't quell Anima's multiplying fears.

The Inn mentioned by Jaskier earlier was farther off than expected, it was dark and nearly midnight by the time they got there. That's how badly he had wanted to be rid of her, he would have quartered his complaints and traveled a half day longer. They didn't eat ot drink or even speak just lifelessly shuffled to their room, each girl crashing ungracefully into their beds.

Sleep over took Thill quickly but not Anima. She tossed and turned, writhing with fear, afraid of the nightmares that would come if she rested. She scraped and clawed at her wrist with purpose, it was becoming a tick, a crutch. "It'll scar if you keep doing that." The voice was stern yet laced with worry, she'd know it anywhere.

"Geralt?" She sat up in her bed wide eyed. She hadn't heard him come in. Had she dozed off? Was this the beginning of a nightmare? Her nails dug harder crooking deeper searching for her pulse.

"Anima stop!" She hadn't seen him move but there he was above her snatching her hand from her hold on reality. Face tight inbetween a grimice and a growl.

"Let go! I need to wake up." Her trapped wrist wriggled, her fingers desperately pawing at nothing.

"Quiet Anima you're not sleeping. You'll wake her at this rate." Geralt's face softened slightly, into something less from a campfire story. he had hoped the fear she had been poisoned with in Rivendell would have flushed from her system after some time to breath but that didn't appear to be the case.

"Thill!" Anima shouted refusing to believe he was flesh and bone.

"Huh? What?" Thill nearly feel out of bed with the force she was awoken. "Geralt?" Thill wiped at her eyes, it seemed neither woman could wrap their mind around his presence.

"Happy?" Geralt grumbled, he had wanted to speak to Anima alone, this arrangement was less than ideal but what else was new.

He sat on the edge of Anima's bed, not moving an inch till he heard her heatbeat even out. He let go of her but before she had a chance to claw there was already a hand there, denying her passage. There was a coarse thumb sliding up and down her pink and purple skin. "Geralt you shouldn't be here." Still unsure he was, she spoke to a possible vision.

"It'll scar if you keep doing that." He repeated, much like a specter with unfinished business would if haunting a woman's dream. Her wrist was brought to his lips, he didn't kiss at her injuries simply held her against the warmth of his breath as fresh words came out. "Not so often." There should have been a question there but it was lacking. "Not never, but not so often." Again there was a pleading tone but no propostion.

"If I promise will you leave? You should go back." This made sense. Geralt was a porous sponge for guilt. He felt he had pushed her too far, that he should have taken even more risks to avoid it. He was trying to make amends. He needed them, and Anima was always quick to give people what they needed.

"Let him speak." Thill was still there and Geralt still wished she wasn't. It was his forehead now, prone against Anima's wrist. He couldn't look her in the eyes, if he did and she looked away he'd lose all that famed brawn and tenacity.

"There's no going back Anima." His jaw was tight and the word had to grunt themselves past.

"Sure there is. Right the way you came, you can be just where you were before." She wasn't talking about Kagen, she was talking about before they met.

"And if I didn't want to be . . . where I was before, you'd still send me?" All the unasked questions landed right then and there, with all the burn that had wounded him so.

"I wouldn't send you anywhere." The fears and sellfish feelings shook in her throat. She leaned in close so the weak words would reach him. "If I had my way I'd keep you." Dark and cagey that's how she heard herself whispering in his ear. "Doesn't that scare you?" It must not have hit Geralt so threateningly, he snorted at the notion.

"I don't feel fear." His head shook softly against her wrist where it still laid. "Not for me." He amended.

"I do Witcher. I'm not strong, I feel fear . . . for the both of us. I don't want to sully you with it, fall victim to it."

"Say it again. Anima I'll leave if you ask just say it one more time." Fingers were dusting at her jaw as if trying to figure out how to move it to his desire.

"What? What do you need me to say?" Her eyes closed, she was so tired, so damned tired. Whatever he needed she would give him, that's what she did, what she was made for.

"Say that you love me again." He'd leave, he'd burn the world behind him but he'd leave to hear it again.

"I never said that." She pulled back, far and away from him though her wrist was still his. She had to breath, get at air that didn't smell of him. "You have to believe me I never said that." Horror over came her, it was one of two things, it had to be. Either this all was some frighteningly vivid nightmare or her abilities had a mind of their own and had made good on her selfish desire to keep Geralt.

"Anima." Thill was still there and in this moment Anima was not sure why. As Geralt seemed to unfathomably take up all her view she'd use any help she could get.

"Thill tell him! Tell him I never said it. Not even to you! I tell Thill everything and I never once told her I loved you!" Anima was scared and panicked and at Thill's response she felt ever more a cornered animal.

"You didn't have to Anima." Thill's ice dipped daggers plunged right into Anima's chest.

"I never said it!" Anima tried to pull her wrist away but he wasn't letting go, pull and protest as she did he wouldn't let go and that scared her even more.

"Anima I don't want to hurt you but I'm not leaving till you say it." Geralt's voice was calm but the hand on her wrist had a tremble in it she hadn't noticed. How long had he been shaking?

"Fine. Fine! I love you! Now you've got what you wanted now leave!" When Geralt and Thill didn't vanish into puffs of brimestone she began to weap.

"Anima just once. Like before. You don't even know what I'm talking about do you?" Geralt brow scrunched in a wince at the sound of Anima's skull thudding against the head board. She did so as she resolved herself to be stuck in this torture loop for eternity.

"I love you alright? Have Jaskier write you a fucking ballad about it, just go! Please I'll do anything just leave." Her sobs were wretchidly tired.

"Anima don't cry." His voice remained calm but the tremble in his hold grew more and more.

"What? What are you talking about? Whatever you want to hear I'll say." She was thrashing, her wrist would dislocate at this rate, she had already spilled awkwardly out of the bed to get any space between them. "Do you have wax in your ears I said I love you. What more do you want?"

"Anima what are you afraid of?" The space was gone he was holding her close, her ear moved to his chest, his slow heartbeat calling out to her. "Whatever it is I'll kill it. If it can't be killed we'll . . .talk about it." He waited, both kneeling on the Inn floor, both sore and so fucking tired but he waited. When no answer came he spoke again. "I . . . Anima there is no one who ever loved me like you do and I-" He really did wish this was a problem a quick beheading could fix. "I don't love anyone, the way I love you." He finally looked at her, he needed some gauge of how this battle was fairing. She didn't look away but the despair in her eyes made him almost wish she had.

"For now." Anima admitted the base cause of the full rooted set of fears.

"What?" He should have come with better words, perhaps gotten Jaskier to pen him some but past saying he loved her his brain had nothing left to give.

"For now you love me. Everything . . . Everyone loses it's shine. I love you and I won't love another. You travel the world, meet new and exciting people and I . . . I won't be able to keep up. I'm a sprinter not a marathoner. I'm fun while it lasts and it doesn't last long. You'll tire or outgrow me, everyone does. That would be fine, I wouldn't mind it if-"

"Fine?" For the first time since it began Geralt was not calm. He was furious. "You'd see it fine for me to use you till I've got my fill and leave you?" His hand no longer trembled instead it held her tensley.

"That's just the thing I wouldn't. I don't trust myself to. I meant what I said, I know now that I wouldn't let you go. I'd keep you." The word still sounded dark and ominous.

"Good." He smirked letting some of the steam off his words. "You haven't completely lost it. If it brings you peace then do it." But the steam hadn't fully dissipated. "Anima whatever I did or said to make you consider I'd outgrow you I'm sorry. I've spent more years than I'd care to count, bored. Even in the company of those new exciting people you mentioned. I never went searching for a cure to that boredom, figured it a side effect of being a Witcher. I'm never bored with you Anima, I'll never grow bored. At first I thought it was the mutagens, some kind of spell. It's not that, your love isn't a lab born concoction. Whenever you say it I don't even remember what boredom feels like." Was this it? Was this finally enough? Was he finally enough for someone? He had nothing left. If she denied him again he would have concede defeat. Temporary defeat, he would find a way, he would charge again when he gained more of whatever he was lacking. Any combination of actions and words to hear it again.

She was studying him, juding his words, his heart picked up as she tested to feel if his emotions were true and he waited, he'd wait forever. "What?" She was smiling. "Truly I don't know what you want to hear so bad." There wasn't dispair or fear, there was simply one of Anima's coy little smiles she held just for him. "You have to tell me. After all that. fuck I'll read the dictionary to you Geralt but-" He let go, taking her cheeks in his hands he couldn't pull her face to his fast enough. The world burned around them as he kissed her with all the passion and love that he had, hoping to sear away any lingering doubts.

It had been that way for years, maybe since she first uttered it. Everytime she said his name, even when she was cross or scared, each and everytime he heard how she loved him, would always love him, she said his name as if he was enough. Time could spin all the way to it's end and he would never tire of it.

**Author's Note:**

> For "plot" progression of this story I'd go straight to part 3 of the series.


End file.
